Run Devil Run
by CaseyIsMyValentine
Summary: Even the worst deserves a second chance.
1. Changes

**A/N: **Story based on song "Run Devil Run" by Ke$ha. ;D by the way, I highly recommend you listen to the songs while reading the story even if you've heard it before. It sets the story's mood and helps get in character. P.S. YES, I used Boulder, CO because of 3OH!3. :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sammy Keyes or the song.

**Story summary: **Sammy, or "Sam", has changed a lot after her move. Now she is back, and her friends see her as a completely different person. Throughout the story, Sammy attempts to use a "re-makeover" plan and slowly she reforms into the old Sammy she was, yet, she has still changed in many ways.

**Age/Rating: **_T_-- and if you honestly don't care and your parents don't either, there is no way for me to stop you.

Staring out the window of the car, I tried to think back on how I even ended up in this stupid mess anyway. I looked back at my dad, his hands gripping the steering wheel and his face stern and solemn. I put my hand on the cold, beige, leather handle of my dad's BMW. Pushing a black button, I lowered the window.

"Samantha." my dad said. "Close the window."

I ignored him and stuck my head out the window.

"Samantha!" Dad scolded. "Get your head back here!"

I rolled my eyes and kept on ignoring him. If I was going to be in this stupid mess anyway I may as well make the best of it.

"SAM!"

"What?" I turned to look at him. "What is it, dad?"

"Close the window!"

I huffed and pushed the black button once more as the window slowly slid up, inch by inch sealing away everything I had become, everyone I had known, and trapping me into a place where I used to belong but suddenly didn't. At a point I could handle where I was. But now I didn't fit.

What would they remember me as? The young, adventurous boyish girl that they used to know me as? Or what I had become after I had left?

"Dad, I don't think I can do this." I breathed in the scent of leather and rubber.

My dad, who rarely ever gave me advice said, "You'll be fine. You're sixteen years old. It's only been thee years."

"Well, three years was enough for _me _to change this much." I said. "What if everyone else has also changed?"

"They haven't. I'm sure."

"How can you be so sure? _You _changed a lot too." I said.

"Don't talk about that." my former drug-dealing father snapped. "It's over, Sam. I messed you up. I'm sorry."

"Yeah." I said, about the drugs I had taken thank to my dad. "You should be. And I'm _not _messed up. I'm fine!"

"I was the reason for everything that happened to you back in Boulder."

"What-ev-er." I sighed. "I already miss Cam."

"He was an idiot." Dad said, "The worst influence you could ever have."

I rolled my eyes and snapped my gum. "And _you _weren't the worst influence of a father, huh?"

"I said, don't talk about that!"

"Then don't insult Cam!" I said. "It wasn't easy breaking up with him!"

Dad pulled onto a driveway. "We are here! Back in Santa Martina, California! Aren't you happy?"

I looked out the window. Why did I recognize this place? Oh yeah. Hudson. I tried not to think about that day. It didn't matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was that I would never be sitting on Hudson's porch again.

I opened the door and stepped out, my tattered messenger bad slung over my shoulder. "Can I leave now?"

Dad shook his head when he came over to my side. "Get inside and put your stuff away. Pick any room."

I went inside my new house and up the stairs. There was two average sized bedrooms and one master bedroom. I walked into the master bedroom. This was my room. I looked at the stripped bed, the empty dresser and the open closet. The door to the bathroom was also opened.

Dad walked in behind me. "You want this room?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's mine."

He shrugged. "I'll take the basement. It looks just like our old apartment anyway. Just like home." he sighed and then said, "The movers put all your stuff in the hall." and he walked out.

I headed into the hall and began to pull my boxes into my room.

The first thing I unpacked was my laptop. I ripped open the box with my laptop and yanked out the charger. I put it on charge in an empty corner of my room where there was an outlet and then began to unpack the rest.

An hour or so later, my dad came in and said, "I just spoke to your mother. She said she and Warren Acosta set everything up. Your friends will be here in half an hour."

"What!" I said. Warren Acosta! Casey Acosta's dad! _Casey? _What would he think of me?

What did I care anyway? Besides, I loved Cam. I think. I kind of missed Cam's sarcastic sense of humor and how he used to call me the sweetest and strangest things ever...although he was stoned most of the time he did.

_Half an hour later.._

I heard my dad's voice downstairs. "She's upstairs." and other people chattering. What the hell! How many people had come? I was just expecting only three or four!

My door opened and I heard female voice. "Sammy? Sammy...!" Marissa stood in the doorway, in a plaid miniskirt and a light pink polo. She looked so different. He hair was open and much lighter (had she died her hair like I had died mine?) and it was in loose wavy curls.

Behind her came in Holly, Casey, Billy, and Danny.

Why Danny? Did Marissa _still _like him? If this was a text message, I would be all WTF!

"Sam...my?" Casey breathed. They all stood gawking.

"I go by Sam." I said. Sam and Cam. Sam and Cam.

SamandCam. SamandCam. I missed Cam. If I were back in Boulder, he would make me feel better. He'd pass me his cigarette and I would take on hit of pot or whatever he was smoking at the moment then pass it back and say, "No thanks. I think I need to lie down."

"Want me to come...?" he'd over, all breathy, and smoke would puff out of his mouth, swirling all around my face. I missed him. Why in the world did I have to leave?

"You call yourself Sam now?" Billy asked. He looked older, too. His hair was shouder-length, though. Strange. Danny had some strange football-player buzz cut, and was dressed all preppy-and-polo like Marissa.

Casey looked the same but so different. His hair had grown out, but not as long as Billy's. Just very shaggy and messy. It had darkened, but it looked like it had naturally darkened. He was taller, much taller, and so much more muscular. His eyes were still chocolatey brown. Amazing. He was wearing dark, baggy pants and a simple plain white t-shirt. So casual. So much older and hotter than I had remembered.

I had to look away, because I had changed the most out of all of them. I was wearing baggy dark jeans that were so completely trashed and ripped that it looked like I had been in some freak accident. I had a dark purple-ish/navy-ish tight tank top on and my arm had million wrist bands practically up to my elbow, all for different causes. (Cancer, Breast Cancer, Help This-Cause and That-Cause, etc). I had died my hair much darker (not black, though) and my friend from Boulder, Lindsee, had taught me how to put my eyeliner real thick and everything. At first I never liked it, but Cam really liked it all, and persuaded me to keep on wearing this all, and I guess I was still wearing it and putting it on because of habit.

"You look so different!" Holly, who had also changed a lot, said. Holly was wearing a SMHS track-and-field t-shirt and gray shorts. Her hair was really short, and Marissa's was really long, whereas mine was in a choppy side-band sort of cut shoulder-length. Cam and his friends had done it to me, apparently while I was passed out on his couch. They had done a lot more, which was the reason why we had moved, and I'm not getting to into that right now.

Even though Cam had been horrible to me that one day, I felt like all the other day he had been great. He had (tried) to listen to me when I needed to talk to someone, and he had.... When I thought about it now, what _had _Cam ever done to me? Besides trying to get me stoned, high, drunk, etc, all the time..?

"I know I do." I said, shrugging. "Like it?"

No one said anything.

"You look like a--" Danny began, but Billy elbowed him.

I rolled my eyes and decided I'd finally open Cam's goodbye present. He had told me not to open it in the car. I took out the box from my messenger bag. It was the size of a tissue box, only a little more square. I uncapped the top of the black box and dumped it. At least five packs of cigarettes tumbled out of the box onto my bed. I just sat and stared for a moment, wide eyed. Then I shoved them all back in the box and thrust the box back into my bag.

"You _smoke?" _Marissa asked.

"Not really." I said. The truth was, I _didn't. _The only time I ever did was when I was with Cam. Hmm.. That was a _lot._

Well, Cam was gone from my life. I would not even think about using those cigarettes. I needed to get rid of them, soon, or else I might even be tempted.

"What are you guys doing just _standing _there? Get comfortable, sit down, etcetera." I said. "Jesus."

They all looked really uncomfortable, when Casey said, "So... How was Colorado?"

I shrugged. "Fine. People are different there."

My dad entered the room and smirked. "Yeah. They all do drugs and people get raped every night."

"They do not!" I said, defensively."Fine, they are all druggies but they do _not _get raped every night! Fuck off, dad!"

Dad said, "Well, you made the stupid mistake of drinking until you were out and having people do all that crap to you."

"Whatever." I grumbled.

"And you actually called him your _boyfriend. _All he did was get you stoned and drunk, then take you home every night and you'd be locked in your bathroom throwing up the whole next day."

"Dad--"

"I didn't say anything at first because I was worse than you, but really. You shouldn't be smoking and drinking and taking drugs in a room full of boys, Sam. Especially if your the only girl.

"I wasn't _smoking! _OR on drugs!" I protested.

"Were you...?" he raised an eyebrow. "That's not what Cam told the police."

"What?" I cried out. "Dad, I admit I do--I _did _do all that but not _that _certain night! Cam invited me over, remember? Then all his friends showed up! It's not like I _knew _four other freaks were going to show up!"

"Sam, the police found you completely passed out, they found out that you were on weed at the moment and they found cigaretted all around you. Cam's friend took off and Cam's whole apartment was searched, while _you _were in the hospital."

"So? _Cam _made me--"

"Cam made you what!" Dad snapped. "It was your _own _decision to have been hanging around Cam anyway! It's your fault what they did!"

"Who cares? He loved me," I complained, but secretly deep down I knew he _hadn't _loved me. Especially after I found out what he had done that night. Like he though he could get away with hurting me? And he even cut my hair like this! Later he had told me, "It's my way to 'mark' you, Sam. Now when you look into the mirror, you'll remember me." he grinned. "Usually I do _this _to mark my girlfriends--" and he had pulled out a pocketknife. "--I either slash their face or hand while they're passed out, so whenever they look there they see the scar. They remember me. But you were too cute to cut." he smiled.

At the moment I had thought he was soooo sweet to call me 'too cute to cut'. Now I look back and realize what a messed up guy he really was.

After my dad left, I turned to my 'friends'. "Please ignore him. He has no idea what he's talking about."

"Is that a _tattoo?" _Billy all of a sudden asked, pointing to my shoulder.

I actually laughed. "No. My friend Maddee wrote that with Sharpie. I keep on tracing it over for fun so it stays." It said, _!Livefordeath!_ In purple Sharpie. The reason all my friends' names were spelled like "Maddee" or "Lindsee" was because they thought whoever was friends with them should have a name like that and start spelling it like that. That made me Sammee. I hated that, so they called me Sam instead.

Danny took a seat against the wall. "Dude. What happened? You're, like, emo."

I rolled my eyes. "You don't know the definition of emo. Emo is when someone is seriously depressed and hurts themselves and stuff. Not necessarily, but you get the gist."

Marissa took a seat next to me. "You're insane." she whispered. "What _happened?"_

I began to laugh. "You guys are acting like I'm like a totally new person. I'm still me!"

Casey sat on my other side. "Well, you've definetly changed."

That pissed me off. A lot! First, he was dressed almot the same. Baggy jeans, plain top. What the hell? And second, _they _had also changed a lot too!

"Excuse me, you guys have also changed." I rolled my eyes.

He smirked. "How so?"

So he was still the same, the way he acted. I tried to not look in his eyes. "Well, you guys look different."

Marissa laughed. "Well of course. But _you _not only _look _different, you act it."

"No I don't!" I protested. "I'm the same. Right?"

Holly shook her head, "The Sammy we remember didn't smoke, drink, or do drugs."

What the hell hell hell hell hell hell?

"I DO NOT FUCKING GO DRUGS AND I DO NOT SMOKE. DAMMIT." I said loudly, "Don't you understand? My boyfriend made me."

"No 'boyfriend' would do that." Casey said. I turned to face him.

"How would you know? Do you have a girlfriend?"

He hesitated, then answered. "No. I don't date too much."

"He's a psycho." Billy defined. "He doesn't like girls."

Casey glared at him. "I _do. _I just don't like the ones I know."

"You're not gay?" I asked him, smirking like he had been earlier.

"No, definetly not." Casey smirked back. "I think you'd know."

"What?"

Danny interrupted. "Yeah. Casey's like, made outwith fifty different girls but he never asks them out. Player."

"Oh shut up." Casey said, "I don't do anything. _They're _all over _me _remember?"

"Don't need to be self-centered." Danny grinned.

Casey flicked him off.

Danny flicked him off back.

"Anyway..." Marissa said, then swatted Danny to tell him to stop. With the way she was swatting him, it was obvious they were dating.

"What about you?" I asked Billy. "Do you date?"

Billy nodded. "I do, but not at the moment."

We all sat sort of awkwardly for a while when Billy said, "So! I should go now." he sort of shuffled out.

Danny kissed Marissa and said, "Yeah. I need to get home. Bye."

Holly nodded. "I have a test tomorrow..." and she said bye and they left.

Marissa and Casey left.

"So.." Casey said. "Wanna go to mall? You probably haven't been there in forever."

I shrugged. "I'm not sure..." and before I knew it, they were dragging my baggy-jeanned butt to the mall.

"Don't you totally love this!" Marissa picked up a ring in Forever 21. "Too bad I don't have enough money at the moment."

I shrugged. "Just take it."

Casey and Marissa both just stared at me. "You shoplift?" Casey asked.

"Look, I don't shoplift." I said. "It's just that my friends used to do it back home and I never thought it was that big of a deal."

Marissa shook her head. "You've _really _changed."

I sighed and turned to look in a full-body mirror, with Casey right beside me. "Am I really that different?" I asked Casey.

He nodded. "You're a totally different person. It's weird to see you like this, Sammy."

"I wish I wasn't like this." I told him. "I don't even like the makeup. I think the jeans are fine for me, but this top sucks and I just want to wash the Sharpie off now. And the stupid black nailpolish my friend told me. Ugh."

"You totally need a re-makeover." Marissa came up from behind me. "Well, we should totally change you back. You know, change your clothes, hair, etcetera."

Casey grinned. "You know, we really should."

I eyed Marissa in the mirror. "You're serious? That would take a lot of work. Besides, Casey..I thought you'd hate me 'cause I..you know."

He took my hand. "You know, I don't know why but I understand why you did it. I think. It was because of your boyfriend right?"

"Yeah. We broke up." I sighed. "I really did think he loved me. Until..."

"Until what?" he asked, but I pulled my hand away from him and turned to face Marissa. "So when do we start this "re-makeover?"

**A/N: **This is an insane story, oh well, I need to let it out. I'm so sorry for the delays on Another Heart Calls and Nothing Personal, I hate it when someone doesn't finish their stories in like three years, so you probably do to. I wouldn't do that. I'll finish AHC and NP by July, I promise. :) THIS story is going to be a side-filler. For fun. Just for the long wait to October 11th. Please review. I know it sucks, but if you want to tell me it sucks then go ahead. Just remember, I'm not a vampire. **Ha-ha. Knee-slapper.**


	2. Reformations

**A/N: **I'm a psycho path loon. It is final.

**Disclaimer: **Please suck my body dry of all it's blood and feet it to a humpback whale. I am insane. I do not own Ammy-Sae Eyes-Kae.

"Sammy! What is _up _with this cut? It is making everything so much harder!" Casey laughed. He was attempting to dy my hair back.

"You mean this freak-mess?" I lifted some of my hair. "God. I hate it too."

Marissa wasn't here today. Even though it was just the beginning of summer, Marissa was in a writing club, for her extracurricular.

"If you don't like it, why did you get it cut that way?" Casey asked, pulling my hair back into his hand and letting it fall back into my face. I looked forward at my reflection. "Because. Cam."

"He made you cut your _hair?" _

"Well, not exactly..." I started.

"What happened, then?" he asked, running a hand through my hair. I could tell he had given up on the dy and now he was just playing with it.

"Cam asked me over. We watched movies and drank. A lot. Then a bunch of other guys showed up and they were weird and creepy so I freaked out but they forced me one last drink and I passed out. I woke up to blood everywhere, and my hair everywhere. The police were surrounding me. They didn't believe me when I said I was pretty sure, no, _positive _I had been raped but what the fuck. Even the blood or my hair everywhere didn't prove anything. I still can't believe they chopped my _hair _off."

"So you care more about your hair than virginity?"

"No! I just... I was especially mad about my hair because it made me feel so so so vulnerable. Like, if they can cut my _hair _without me saying so, they can do _anything _at all to me. Right?"

"So what happened with the police?"

"Cam's apartment was searched and so was mine, and they found everything in Cam's apartment and nothing at all in our's, but since Dad already had a drug record, they still threatened to have me arrested. But Dad was friends with cop and he let us off easy. We were forced to move, especially since Cam was till pyscho for me. He still texts me the creepiest things ever."

"Like what?" Casey asked.

"Like... I dunno. Like 'Did you use my _presents _yet?' or 'I'm thinking of you Sam. All the time' or 'We'll be back together soon I promise'." I shivered. "I don't want to ever see him again. He thinks it's okay to use and then I'll be okay with it?"

Casey rested his chin on the top of my head and looked at me through the mirror. "You look great with your makeup off, Sammy. You looked fine with it, too, but you look better without it."

I turned around in my swivel chair. I had a MGMT t-shirt on and simple black shorts.

"What about my clothes?" I asked. "Do you like it better with those jeans or these shorts?"

He checked me out for a minute then said, "I honestly think your jeans looked good on you. Well, you look fine with it all, but don't wear that purple tank top unless you're using it to bed."

"Why?" I asked. "Why are you even thinking about what I wear to bed?" I teased.

He blushed a little. "I mean, don't wear it like you mean to. It makes you look like a, um, a freak show."

Freak show = Prostitute.

Anyway, I stood up and Casey said to me a litte awkwardly, "Soo. Um. Did Cam and his friends ever caught for raping you?"

"Stop saying it like that." I sighed. "I hate that word. Instead, call it... 'invading my personal space'."

"Your very very very personal 'space'?" Casey put little bunny-ear quotations around 'space' with his fingers.

I swatted his shoulder. "Be queit."

"You're not pregnant are you?"

I laughed. "I am. Totally." very sarcastically. "Okay, so do you wanna get my hair dyed or not?"

Casey shrugged. "I kinda think you look cute with that color. It suits you."

I brightened. "Really?" I smiled.

"Yeah. Very much." he put his hands on my waist. "Isn't this weird? My second day of seeing you in three years and this is where we are."

"You mean, your second day of seeing me after three years and your all over me?"

He laughed and very randomly, he pulled me into a kiss. I loved that kiss. For once, the guy wasn't stoned when he was kissing me. Or me. Stupid Cam. It wasn't like I was _addicted _or like I was really into drugs... I only smoked pot, like a few couple times and I was never addicted. Cam mostly made me smoke marijuana since pot was expensive and he didn't want to waste it on someone who didn't even like it. Marijuana wasn't very addicting, and it wasn't even that bad for you, as much as pot and crack and heroin, so I smoked that a few times a month anyway. Like maybe twice or thrice a month. But that was it. I was so weird there. What was I _thinking? _I had secretly always hated it all, but I had thought Cam had treated me so right. I was wrong. Cam was _nothing _like Casey. I wondered how I could have gone three years without him.

Casey's kiss was amazing. I could actually feel his passion. Instead of being a high freak, he was actually still on this world and was kissing me because he liked me. I think. He did like me, right?

His hands ran through my hair as he kissed me. We finally seperated and he stepped back. "You know. I don't even mind the cut that much."

I touched my lips, still feeling the electric crazy tingle of his lips. "Why?"

"It's fun to play with. To touch and hold. It's cute." he winked.

"That's what she said," I joked.

He rolled his eyes and laughed. "Ha-ha. Very funny." then he pulled me into a backward-hug (my back was against his chest and his arms were wrapped around me from my bag to my front) [**A/N: **love those types of hugs! Whenever my bf hugs me like that I just wanna stay there forever!].

His hands sifted through my hair. One finger twirled a strand on hair. "I like it a lot."

I smiled. "And I like you a lot."

Back when I was thirteen, I would have never had said that to him at all, ever.

Maybe I _had _changed.

**A/N: **The reason for this story is only because I've smoked Marijuana and honestly, it sucks. Some gigs go out of control, and I guess drugs, or as my friend would like to say, durrrrgs are not good. Even though marijuana isn't THAAAT bad for you, it's still bad. Our school has this "Get High" day that the students made up and we all come to school high. It's weird, and I'm never going to do it again. The last think I need is a drug problem. I've already been branded a "whore" (because of my picture, maybe? Or that's what people think) I don't need "druggie" or "stoner" added to the list, thankyouverymuch. ;D


	3. Tanning

**A/N: **The idea of this story came from songs and personal experience. Of course, I made everything much more interesting and glamarous in the story.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SK.

I let my hand intertwine with Casey's. It was only the fifth day of my coming back but I felt like I fit in. A little.

My hair was still the same but Marissa confiscated all my dark eyeliner. I only wore my purple tank top to bed and I had washed off the Sharpie.

Casey pulled me closer to him, letting me snuggle up against him. "Tell me something." he whispered.

"Like what?" I whispered back.

He buried his face face into my chest and inhaled. Then exhaled. "Anything." he wrapped his arms around me.

"I play Call of Duty."

Casey lifted his head and laughed. "Sammy, I meant tell me something..romantic."

I laughed. "Call of Duty isn't romantic? I had to sell mine, though."

"Why?" Casey asked, puzzled.

"Cam told me I should. He told me he needed the money." I broke eye contact with Casey. "He used the money to buy drugs."

Casey pulled me super close, I could feel his breath against my cheek. "I've only seen you for five days recently but I still like you the same. No matter what you've done."

"Even if I dyed my hair pink and then cut it all off?" I teased.

He smiled and said, "Yeah. Probably."

All of a sudden I remembered something. "Where is Heather?"

Casey didn't answer. "Can we talk about her later?" he asked.

I twisted around on his lap and rested my head on his shoulder. He smelled like good. Really good. Like some sort of spicy chocolate. It _sounds _gross but you don't understand. I can't describe it. He just did. I really did think he cared for me, unlike Cam.

In fact, I _knew _he cared. As he absent-mindedly ran his hand through my hair I snuggled up closer to him. My room wasn't the most romantic place ever, since it was practically empty, but oh well. Besides, Casey was acting amazing to me and I had just gotten here. What more could I want?

Later, after Casey had left, Marissa called me "Sammy?" she asked.

"Yes?" I asked back. Awkward silence.

"Would you like to come over and sleep over or something tonight? We've got a lottttt of catching up to do."

"Of course!"

I looked at myself in the mirror as I cradled my cell phone with one arm in an ear. I liked the way I looked. Marissa had lent me a hard white headband yesterday and I was wearing it. "You need lighter colors." she had stated. "Dark colors make you look dreary."

"How about this?" Casey had looked through the racks and he came back with a white and pink plaid skirt, kind of like Marissa's.

I took the skirt from him and used it to whack him on the head. "Are you insane? I'm not _that _different!"  
So anyway, after I hung up the phone with Marissa, I pulled out my laptop which my dad had gotten me, and opened up a Word document.

**My re-makeover progress**

[ ] Change hair back (exception made since C likes it. ;) )

[X] New wardrobe

[ ] Forget about Cam & friends! (almost! Still trying! I hate him..)

[X] BE HAPPIER.

[ ] Get all my old friends to realize that I am not really a druggie, it wasn't my fault and I would nevereverever do it again. (Marissa and Casey were easy, but what abou Holly and Dot? I haven't seen dot yet at all! Where is she!)

[ ] Figure out if Casey likes me or not? Was that kiss just a friendly kiss? OR WHAT!

See? I only had like 2 out of 6. But since one was canceled, 2/5. 2/5ths was not enough! 2/5ths was only 40%! 40/10% is NOT good. At all!

Ugh.

I need aTylenol.

My dad tells me I shouldn't take sleeping pills, Tylenol, or Advil for a few months unless it's a suuuper emergency. He says I've had enough drugs in my body for a whole year. After a few months I'll be good to go. I think. I hope. I don't know. Things were weird.

I shoved some sweat pants and a cami into a bag with my tooth brush and decided to go over to Marissa's then. Maybe things would be better later.

When I got to Marissa's house, she was sitting on her porch steps with a bag of Sour Patch Kids.

"Want some?" she asked, thrusting the candy toward me.

"Uh, no thanks." I said, and I sat down beside her. "Did you dy your hair?"

She nodded. "Like it?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "You look great."

And she did. Her wavy light brown curls came down to her back and she looked so beautiful and tan in her white cami and denim shorts and white flip flops. Like a delicate angel.

God, I'm so weird.

Whereas _I, _on the other hand, looked dumb. With my black ripped jeans and dumb navy blue fitted long sleeved V-necked tee shirt, and my choppy, jagged dark brown hair which was so thin anyways, I looked like some pale ghostly goth or something. I had vetoed the makeup already thanks to Casey, so I guess I looked a liiittle better than before but then again, not really compared to Marissa. She was like some preppy goddess and I was, like I said, a goth ghost.

"You need a tan." Marissa studied me.

I looked at my hands. "Ya think?"

She nodded. "Did you bring a tank top and shorts? We're gonna tan."

I shook my head. "Just some old sweat pants."

She gave me a disgusted look. "You're still the same Sammy, ughh." but she grinned afterwards. "I like that. I'll go get you some shorts."

As she headed inside, I pulled off my shirt to put on my cami. The reason I did it on her front lawn was only because she had a huge driveway and lots of trees so passerbiers wouldn't even bother to look at her porch, it was practically blocked with the gate and the trees anyway, even if her gate was open.

Trouble is, as I'm reaching into my bag to grab my cami, someone says, "What the heck, Sammy? What are you doing in your bra?"

I look up to see Danny, Billy, and Casey, standing there, slighty amused by the freak show with a only a bra on.

I blushed and covered myself with my cami. "Shut up. We're tanning."

"Where's Marissa?" Billy asked. "Looks like your alone right now."

"She inside. I'm not alone, Billy. Why would I be tanning alone in a bra on someone else's front porch?"

"Because you're a freak." Danny said.

"That's true." Billy said.

"What? Thanks guys. Glad to know you love me." I quickly slipped on the cami just as Marissa emerged.

"Here you go--" she stopped and looked at the three guys standing there. "Hello." she said. "Did I invite you?" she smirked.

"No," Danny said, "But don't I have permission to stop by and say hi to my girlfriend when I can?"

She smiled and said, "Aww, fine." I don't think she noticed that he had a secret little hint of doubt in his voice when he had said that. What a liar.

"We're tanning." Marissa explained. She handed me her shorts. "You can go inside and put them on."

So I did. When I came back out, I shoved my pants in my bag and said, "So do you guys wanna tan, too?"

They looked at me like I was psycho. Not that they weren't already tanned enough. Casey looked amazing in his casual t-shirt and shorts. I barely even noticed how Danny and Billy looked because I was too into looking at Casey.

Casey could tell that I was checking him out, and he gave me a sly wink. I blushed and turned to Marissa. She was also super tan. I was the only idiot who was as pale as my Word document background color. Gross.

"Actually," Casey said, "we came here for a reason. To ask you guys in you wanted to join us? We're going to the beach." he gave a little glance at me and smiled, "You guys can work on your tanning there."

I was so embarassed. Everyone could tell that I was the only ghost here. Guhhh.

"Sure!" Marissa cried out. "Of course! Won't that be fun, Sammy? You'll come, right?"

I nodded. I had started to go by Sammy again. It was part of my reformation package deal plan thingy.

"We're going in Casey's car." Billy said, looking at me. "Annnnnnd Sammy, since it's your first time in his car, I will take the pleasure to inform you that if anything is even a little ruined in his car, he will hurt you."

"No I won't!" Casey looked at me. "Ignore him. I won't do anything to you, Sammy."

Danny rolled his eyes. "He does to us. He's usually so paranoid. He's only making an exception for you because he's, like, loved you forever."

Casey punched Danny. I didn't mind, I just thought it was extremely cute.

"Okay." I told Casey. "I won't mess anything up."

"So let's go!" Marissa said. "I haven't been to the beach in a whole month!"

As we were all heading over to Casey's car, no, SUV out on the side of the road, I said, "Stop, wait for me. I need to go get some grape juice, I always drink it at the beach and on the ride there." I eyes Casey evilly and he raised an eyebrow like, "Really, Sammy?"

Billy punched Casey. "Isn't she lovely, Casey?"

I laughed. "Just kidding." and Casey smirked.

"I thought so." he said, and since I had beenf flirting with him, he said, "Maybe the juice would add some color to your skin." as he grabbed my arm, he said, "Or some meat on your arms. Why are you so thin?"

"It's called exercising." I said. "Ever heard?"

His hand slid down from my arm to my hand as he led me to his car. "See? You really haven't changed."

Yeah. I know. I haven't changed a bit.

**A/N: **That's not the end of the story, I think. I'll add more. This is redicalous! This is the dumbest story ever. I'd like to thank you if you're even bothering to read it. Review!


	4. Cigarettes

**A/N: **Reeeead.

**Disclaimer: **Bahh.

_Kill the lights,_

_These children learn from cigarette burns,_

_Fast cars, fast money, and cheap drinks._

_It feels right,_

_All these asphyxiated,_

_Self-medicated, take the white pill--_

_You'll feel alright  
--"I'm Not You Boyfriend, Baby" by 3OH!3_

It was the next day--or should I say night. I was at Casey's house, sitting on his floor cross-legged. Casey grabbed my messenger bag. "Can I look through this?" he asked.

I shrugged. He dumped it. "Why do you carry it everywhere?" he asked, sifting through my personal belongings.

"I kinda got used to it. Habit, I guess."

Casey grabbed the box Cam had given me. "Are these the cigarettes? You didn't throw them out yet?"

I shrugged.

"Do you _use _them?"

"No!" I said. "I don't!"

He opened the box anyway and dumped it all. "One box is gone, Sammy."

I counted the small boxes of cigarettes. "That can't be. I never used any..."

But he was right. One box _was _gone.

"Someone took one." I said. "I'm sure. I never used any."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, really?"

I gave him a playful smack on his arm. "Yeah! I'm over that crap, remember?"

He shoved them all back into the bigger box. "I can't be so sure."

"What? _What does that mean--_"

"For one, you still carry them around. And one whole pack is gone, Sammy."

"But-- I-- the only reason I keep them with me is because of Cam! I-- I'm used to carrying his things around. I don't want to--"

"So it's Cam? You still like him don't you?" Casey asked me.

"No! Like I said, I've only been here a week now. It's all habit! I don't like him! At all.."

"Then throw these away." he waved the box.

I couldn't believe him. It's not like I used the cigarettes but I didn't want to throw Cam's gift away... Besides, he probably used _my _money to buy them.

"See?" he said. "You're not even throwing them away." he shoved the rest of my things-- my iPod, wallet, cell phone, house keys, gum, etc into my bag. "Whatever, Sammy." lastly he shoved the cigarettes back in my bag.

"I--"

"I don't care! I can't believe you'd use us like that. We were trying to be your _friends. _I even thought you liked me."

"But I--"

"But what! Obvious you still like Cam! You even smoked his cigarettes! I don't even care anymore, Sammy. And you know what, Sammy?"

I bit my lip. "What?"

"Fuck you." he said.

And then I grabbed my bag and left his house in a flurry of tears.

Back at home, I stomped inside.

"What's wrong?" Dad asked.

"I..I don't even know." I ran into my room and grabbed my cell phone. Back in Colorado, who did I use to call when I was upset?

Cam.

I dialed his number. I was so dumb.

"Heyy." I heard on the other end.

"C-Cam?" I asked.

"Sam? SAM! Holy shit, it's you. How're yoooou?"

"I'm not fine. I-- well, what about you?"

"It sucks without you." he admitted. "No girl is as willing to m as you were."

"What?"

"You listened to everything I said. Fuck, you were like my robot. It was pretty sweet."

"Huh?"

His voice seemed to get louder in my ears. Maybe I was dreaming.

"Money, drinks, smokes, bed, you listened to everything. That's why I loved you."

"Whh..what..?"

"Sam! What is wrong with you? Anyway, you should come back. My apartment is lonely without you. Well, not really, I test out a new chick every night, but--"

I hung up and buried my face in my pillow. God. What was I _thinking _when I thought he liked me? He was using me!

He used me for money. To buy things that I didn't even want to ever do or get into. Example: drugs, drinks. He practically raped me, for God's sake.

Crap. I got a call. Without checking I picked it up.

"Sammmmmm?" it was Cam.

"What do you want?" I asked. I was different now. A good person. Not some freak who snuck out every night. A good good good girl.

"I was just wondering why you hung up?"

"Bad connection. Sorry."

"Whatever. So did you meet any knew guys?"

I wanted to bother him. Annoy him. You know, pull his chain a little. "I did." I said.

"How is he?" Cam voice had an edge to it.

"He's amazing. Perfect. He's athletic and funny and tall and handsome. You'd be happy for me, Cam, really, you would."

He was silent for a moment. "Why? Why would I be happy? That you've fallen for some good-boy preppy prick? Yeah, right. That dickhead can go die."

"Cam!" see? That was my proof. That was all he needed to say to prove to me what a real jerk he was.

"What? You're mad at me? Why, Sam? Because I insulted your bastard of a boyfriend?"

"Stop," I said. "Just because _we _broke up doesn't mean everyone I date isn't any good."

"Yes it does! You'll never find anyone better than me, Sam, _never."_

"Whatever, Cam." I was double pissed off now.

"What about my gift? Did you use it? Did it happen to get in between you and your guy?"

"_What?" _I gasped, because it _had _happened to get in between me and Casey.

"Judging by your voice, it did. Sweet." I could almost see him grinning. "Always works."

"WHAT?" I practically screamed. "You mean you gave those cigarettes to me on purpose just so someone finds it and I'll never get another boyfriend?"

"Yehhpp. But don't worry, I'm here fer ya."

"No you're not!" I said. I was crying now. "Why did you do that, Cam? I've loved Casey before I even met you!"

"'Loved'? You were fucking thirteen!"

"Well, I've _liked _him, okay? I can't believe you! You're a freak. You made me do a lot of things I didn't want to and I'm never speaking to you again." it was the lamest speech I had ever given but I was mad.

I hung up, just to receive a text two minutes later:

**New message from Cam**

I'll be there soon. ;]

**A/N: **I am a geek. Spare memy geekiness. We are not worthy, we are not. Adieu.


	5. Casey in Court

**A/N:** Shit, I'm like so fucked up right now, If I throw up on my laptop and jamb the keys I'm like so sorrieee! Well my laptop has THIS MUCH (LITTLE) battery left so I'll use it before it dies on meee! **Disclaimer**: I don't own Sammy Keeyesss! **Note: **I went back later to fix all my stupid grammar mistakes since I was practically passed out when I wrote this...

The next day, I marched right up to Casey's house and when his dad answered the door, I asked to go to his room.

When I was facing his shut door, I took a deep breath, tied my hair back and entered.

First thing Casey did was yell and yank his pants up.

"What the-"

"Oh my-"

"Who-"

"-I'm sorry!"

He turned to see me, he spat out, "I was _changing_."

"You need to lock your door." I said, "And it's not like you were fully naked, so chill out."

He eyed me and said, "Why are you here?"

"To explain."

He grabbed me by the shoulder and looked me in the eyes. "Look, Sammy. I appreciate your concern in the fact that I am also concerned in your welfare and that I am slightly offended in the fact that you subtly told me things that weren't necessarily true, also known as lying, but it would be for the best of us if you just turned around and left this room before I make you leave myself because of your repetitive tellings of false information."

I blinked, then smirked. He was obviously trying to confuse me with his words so I would just not say anything at all. Well, he may be an actor, and he may be smart, but over our three years apart he obviously forgot that I was exceptionally talented in speaking intellectually between two people, conversing in a more mature, respectable environment was my way of communicating with unreasonable, unkempt adults. (See? I'm already doing it..) I pursed my lips and began, "Casey, I can see you are trying to baffle me with your amazing skills of speech, but as you can see, they do not get to me at all. I am not here to bother you with pointless pleas of forgiveness; I am here for you to hear my case out. Seeing as you falsely accused ne of wrong-doings without any proof, I am innocent until proven guilty."

He raised his eyebrows and said, "You have the rights to remain silent."

I nodded, "I will start my argument with the proven fact that the cigarettes you found weren't at all used by me, they were used by my father who took them whilst a certain somebody was attempting to dye my hair. Witness number one: yourself, Casey Acosta."

Smirking, he said, "Solid proof would be the only thing convincing me to believe your point."

"What makes you the point of authority?"

"My room, my rules."

I scowled. "I will proceed to dialing up my father's cellular device from my _own_ cellular device, getting full proof that my father was the main solution to the whole case."

"Proceed."

I dialed dad's number, and hit speaker. When he answered, I snapped, "Dad, this is Sammy and I'm in court. Tell me, did you take a pack of cigarettes from my box or not? You do NOT have the right to remain silent because Officer Casey is right beside me, and I am perfectly capable of tying you up the electricity wires outside with your own tongue and shoelaces. Tell me, did you or did you not?"

"Sam...?"

"Tell me!"

"You're in… _court_?"

"No!" I sighed. "I was joking. Can you tell me?"

"Uh. Yes, I did. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't even be smoking. Didn't we discuss this last night, and then afterward you burnt the rest of the cigarettes in our backyard and screamed profane words at me until you cried in your room for the rest of your night, taking four different sleeping pills and forcing me to run out to Walgreens at twelve in the morning just to buy you a box of Tampax and then you had this whole PMS-y rant and rave about not having any salsa for your Tostidos until you declared you weren't hungry then swallowed two Advil dry? Then you told me I bought the wrong type of tampons and screamed some more and told me it was all my fault Casey hated you and if Cam hadn't given you those cigarettes everything would've been fine? Then you woke me up at two in the morning to massage you? And then you secretly went to MY bathroom where I walked in and found you shaving your-"

"DAD!"

"Yes?"

"Shut up please?" I snapped my phone shut, looking at Casey nervously. He was smirking. "Shaving your what?"

"Shut up," I said.

"Seriously."

"None of your business, you perv." an then I said, "And don't get any ideas, okay? My legs. Jesus."

He put his hands up. "I'm sorry, you don't have to start PMSing at me, too!"

"I said shut up."

"Wrong tampons?"

"Casey..." I gritted my teeth.

"What did poor Tampax ever do to you?"

I took deep breaths, trying my best not to pull his throat out from beneath his head.

"You were feeling so lonely you needed your DAD to massage you?" he thought this was so funny, because it cracked him up. "Salsa for your Tostidos...!"

"SHUT UP!"

"I..." he started laughing again. "I can't believe you got mad at your dad for buying the wring type of tampons. Like he would know?" he cracked up again. "Four different sleeping pills? Two Advil?"

"Please!" I begged, wanting to kick him.

He wiped his eyes, then looked up at me. "Is that seriously what PMS does to a girl like you?"

"If you don't shut up right now, I'll start PMSing at you and bitch-slap you and leave right now."

That stopped him. A little. He still tried to control his never-ending laughter.

"Are you done?" I asked, exasperated.

He stopped to look me in the eyes. "Yeah. I am." he was suddenly very sullen and stony-faced. Like he was still mad at me for something I didn't do.

Everything was back to the way it was last night- tensive.

"Okay." I tapped my foot. "Thanks for that. I'm glad you appreciate my PMS problems. Now, tell me, judge, do I win this case or not?"

He looked up at the ceiling, then stepped forward and awkwardly kissed me.

It was so sudden, and since I had fallen asleep with my face on my laptop keyboard last night, my lips had cracked and when he suddenly kissed me like that, my lips began to bleed again. I pulled away,

"Ow!" I clamped my over my mouth.

"Whats wrong? Did I HURT you?" he looked sincerely concerned. The look in his eyes reminded me of the day we first met, when I had he was swatting then little rocks off my back and arms, and accidentally hurt my bandaged arm. The way he had looked at me when he had asked, Did I HURT you?  
Like he actually cared. Please. No guy ever "actually cared" about me.  
What did I think? That relationships were always perfect just because you loved someone? Did I even LOVE him? I just met him again after three whole years! What if he liked someone else now?  
Okay, forget that. He had just tried to kiss me, like thirty seconds ago.

"No, you... I... I'm bleeding..." I managed.

He pulled a face. "I'm sorry."

"It... It wasn't you... It's my fault,... Sorry."

"Sammy-"

I actually laughed. "Stop acting so worried! Besides, why'd you try to kiss me?" I guess I was known for bluntly asking him dumb things. (Ex: "If you're so tight with Heather, why are you holding my hand?" WHAT WAS I THINKING!)

He looked hurt. "Why did... Wait, why did I try to _kiss _you? Because...? I _like_ you?"

"That's why you told me to get lost yesterday?"

"I didn't say that!"

"You meant it."

He pursed his lips. "Look, I know that kiss wasn't very romantic but I actually wanted it to mean something, so if you're going to be so stubborn about it-"

"Okay! Okay!" I laughed. "Jesus!"

My lip had, thank the gods of every nation, stopped bleeding.

"Now you look like some blood-thirsty vampire."

"What?"

He laughed.

"_What_?" I repeated. Okay, I admit, I was pale. And maybe my lips were reddish right now, but there is no way I looked like a blood-thirsty vampire...

My thoughts were cut off by a face less than an inch away from mine, smiling up at me. I saw Casey, slightly crouching because he was taller than me, smiling at me. He winked and said, "You win. Case closed. I'm sorry for accusing you of something so stupid." then he smiled giddily. "And don't worry, no more bloody kisses tonight. Wanna make s'mores?"

I blinked, then took a step back and laughed. "I'll never understand you, Casey."

"Please," he got down on one knee, grabbed my hand, and like a slow flash-back back-in-time replay of when I was in seventh-grade, he put his mouth to my hands and pulled away to look up at me, "call me Sir Lucan, Knight of the Holy Blade of York."

**A/N: **DUDE ITS FRIGGEN BLAH! Review please?


	6. Tradition

**A/N: **So I'll be wrapping up my Nothing Personal story soon, and then trying to wrap up my Supermassive Blackhole story and then maybe focusing a little more on this story and Another Heart Calls. Blah, I hate all my stories. That's why I never update them. I start a story, love writing it for about a week or so, and then fall out of the mood. But now I'm in the mood again! :) and I know this story right here sucks 'baaawls'. It has like fifteen reviews, but when I read the readers' stats things, a _ton _of people read it? Wtf? COMMENT HOMIES. SERIOUSLY.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SK.

**Warning: **Um... I'm kinda in a violent mood tonight so, spare me my violent tendencies. You'll see.

_Run Devil Run_

_Chapter Who-Knows? (Not Me.)_

_**Tradition**_

For some odd reason or another, I started getting terrible dreams for the rest of the week. I don't even know why, because Casey and I have obviously resolved our problems. And I'm _trying _to reform.

I don't know why it's not working.

I don't even remember how the "old Sammy" was.

And I've been attempting to self-tan in the afternoons but my skin refuses to tan up, even the slightest bit.

And I've been checking on my father and his smoking habits ever since that little incident.

Anyway, back to my nightmares. I don't know why I even have them. They're usually nightmares of creepy killers attacking other people.

The "other people" are usually women or girls.

And no, its not like I have some unconscious fear of being raped or something.

Been there, done that.

And its not like the women in my dream are being _sexually _assaulted_. _The men kill them in more gruesome, freaky ways.

For _example_...

In one of my nightmares, a dude came after a girl with a giant hammer thing and literally bludgeoned her to death. The bashed-in skull was horrifying.

I've been sleeping with my dad for the past few days so I don't have weird nightmares again. And trust me, my dad doesn't like it at all.

One night I was dragging myself into his room, mid-night, when he groaned, "Saaaam. You'll be the death of me."

"Come on, daddy. The nightmares are terrible. One more night." I begged.

"Fine. But if these bad dreams don't disinegrate _tonight_, I'm taking you to a psychiatrist.

"Fine, whatever." I snapped and dove into bed next to him.

I still had a nightmare, although it wasn't as creepy as usual.

The next morning I awoke and found myself in a seriously pissed off mood.

"Where are you off to?" my dad asked when he saw me scooping my tattered messenger bag off the floor.

"I don't know...possibly Marissa's."

"Okay, well call me later so I know you haven't been run over by a car, or something. Roadkill..." he smirked. "Raccoon."

I whipped around. "Hey! You can't call me that anymore re-mem-ber? I'm _through _with the eye makeup."

"Thanks to your sensible friends!" he grumbled.

"Whatever." I snapped my gum and slammed the door behind me as I heard him laugh good-naturedly.

When I was out the door, I called Marissa.

She picked up and said, "Sammy! I was just about to call you! Danny's over. And so is Casey. He was, like, ready to leave until I suggested you come over. You busy?"

I laughed. She sounded so...enthused about this all. I loved it. "No, I'm not busy. I'll be right there."

When I was finally at her home and Marissa was answering the door and all, she blurted, "Do you wanna come with us to see Social Network?"

I pulled a face. "Oh, gross. Social Network? Marissa, please."

Danny and Casey emerged at the doorway and pretty soon we were all sitting out on Marissa's lawn as she said, "Hey, it doesn't sound _that _bad..."

"What's Social Network about, anyway?" Danny asked.

I turned to face him and thought I may as well describe it in the most blunt manner I possibly could. After all, this was Danny we were dealing with.

"It's about the douchebag who made Facebook." I said with an attempted straight face.

Casey and Marissa couldn't help it-they started laughing. "Nice way to put it, Sammy." Casey grinned.

"But watch your language!" Marissa fake-scolded.

Whatever.

But she _was _slightly right. I needed to mind my tongue. Just a little. As least, I should stop swearing so much. It went against the "old Sammy" rules to swear.

"So that means you _don't _want see Social Network?" Marissa asked with a quick look around.

Danny shook his head, "We're more into action movies. You know what I mean?" he grinned and pulled her onto his lap and said in this fake-seductive voice, "Movies with lots of tes-tos-ter-one."

Marissa slapped his hand away. "Shut up!" she giggled, blushing.

Danny leaned down and kissed her.

And would. Not. Stop.

Literally, they kissed for one minute straight.

Two minutes.

It was getting close to three. Casey and I gave each other exasperated looks.

Finally Casey coughed and said, "Do you guys need some, _um, _time alone?"

Danny paused for a moment to breath out a, "Get lost." in a sort of laugh-y voice.

So Casey and I got up and walked to the backyard. As we walked, we spoke.

"That was, um, _intense._"I joked, about the little kissing-scene back in the front yard.

"Tell me about it." he said. "It's like they can't control their hormones around other people?"

I laughed and said, "So I had this freaky dream last night, about some guy assasinating the first female president."

"Seriously? And who was the first female president..._you?" _he grinned.

I shrugged. "You got me. She had my voice, but the pictures were too dark and shady for me to figure out the faces. So yeah, it might've been me." I give him a look. "But no, I'm never planning on running for president, so don't even tell me this nightmare was an omen, or something."

"I don't believe in omens."

"Oh, but you believe in good luck?" I shook my high top at him.

He smirked. "Hey, let's see if Danny and Marissa are finished sucking face."

So we both trudged back to the front yard just to see them kissing even more and, uh, passionately, than before.

I turned around immedietly and said, "I guess not!" as we headed back to the backyard.

Casey came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. "Lighten up. They're just having fun."

"I _am _lightened up." I said, crunching on a pinecone as we headed back downhill towards the backyard, with his arms still wrapped around me from behind.

"Hey, turn around." he said. "I want to talk to your face, not hair."

I turned around to see his face literally inches from mine.

His brown eyes were sparkling and I could tell he was going to kiss me in three, two-

Yup. He was kissing my right now.

And just as Danny and Marissa come looking for us.

"Woah!" Danny whoops as they join us. Casey and I have obviously pulled away by now. "I had no idea you two were together!"

Casey just shrugged. "You should have guessed, Danny."

Suddenly my phone buzzes.

**Unknown caller**

_Hello._

I blinked at the text.

_Um, who are you?_

**Unknown caller: **_Can you meet me at your home? Thank you. XOXOX._

"Uhh... Guys? Do you guys know if anyone has time to, you know, guess who this is?"

Marissa grabbed my phone from me. "I have no idea. But they can't be _that _harmful. They said thank you and put an 'xoxox'."

"That doesn't prove anything!"

"Look, we'll go to your house with you." Casey suggested when he read the text.

And then my phone buzzed again.

_Oh. And I want you to show up alone...:)_

I blinked at the screen. _Again. _"They want me to be alone."

So we all just sort of blinked at each other. Blink blink blink. And then I said, "Well, hey. My dad's home. And I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I'll be okay, guys."

They all nodded slowly. "Yyyyeah. You'll be just...fine."

I glared at them. "Give me a break, okay? I'm going."

So I headed back to my house.

The problem is, when I arrived at my house and heard that voice call my name from the side of the house.

And then step out.

And that face.

Those eyes.

That sly smile.

I wished I hadn't come alone. I wanted to turn around and run.

Judging by the empty driveway, it was obvious that my dad was gone...but where?

"Why so serious on our reunion?" he grinned.

I took a step back. "You stay away from me, you hear?"

He nods slowly. "Yes...I hear. And I'm not here for _you_, Sammy."

He grinned, producing a switchblade from inside his jacket. "I'm here for tradition."

Remember that "tradition" or whatever I told you about that Cam did? The carving-into-skin thing? And how he had spared me that one time?

Well, it was obvious he was talking about that tradition.

And this time, he wasn't feeling too merciful.

**A/N: **Ahah... Sorry...how is it? :P COMMENT!


	7. Influences

**A/N: **I'll be updating these a lot faster now, and hopefully finishing this story off...? Wheee. :)

**Disclaimer: **Don't on SK.

_Run Devil Run _

**Influences**

"Cam..." I breathed. Stop. Stop. Stop. Right now. Please.

Of course, I couldn't exactly _say _stop. I was too busy freaking out.

What do I do? I can run, but... Cam could easily outrun me and then slaughter me.. And besides, he'll just be waiting here until I come back home again. Which I have to, _some_time, right?

So I can't escape him by running.

And sure, I'm a good fighter...but he has a switchblade. He could just shank me like no other and kill me right here.

But is he psycho enough to _kill _someone?

I looked at him. His crazed-looking blue eyes. His blood-thirtsy grin.

Yes, he was _way_ _beyond _capable of killing.

"Yes, Sam?" he smiled faux-sweetly. "I'm only here to finish something _I never got to start!" _then he seeths. "Sam, you know you're not stupid..."

"Thanks," I say. "I appreciate you complimenting me. Ready to slice me to death, yet?"

He grins a wild grin and takes a step forward. "The thing about you is, is that you let people walk all over you."

I tossed my head back in disgust. "You're insane. I don't let people walk all over me... I let _you _walk all over me."

This made Cam stop for a moment. "What?"

"And do you know _why?" _I was talking so I could distract him. Meanwhile, I dialed Speed Dial 2 (Casey) on my phone behind my back.

"What?" he repeated.

"It's because I was _under the influence." _I smirked and then snapped, "Under _you're _influence_."_

I heard the soft ringing of the phone behind my back. Good thing Cam was too away to hear Casey pick up and say, "Sammy?"

This was my chance. Very loudly I said, "GET AWAY FROM ME, _CAM, _LEAVE ME ALONE, _CAM, _AND STOP _HARRASSING _ME... _CAM."_

I said it loud and clear enough for Casey to hear in the phone, on purpose.

I heard the other end hang up.

And I knew he was on his way.

I needed to distract Cam some more until Casey arrived to kick some ex-boyfriend ass, I mean butt.

But Cam doesn't like to be "distracted". Cam was angry.

"Influence? You were under _my _influence? Bitch, you were under your _dad's _influence! His half-assed attempts to be a father were pretty damn crooked." he gives me a little smirk. "So don't _even _talk about _my _influence."

Okay. It was one thing to stalk me and track me down all the way in California and confront me with a switchblade.

It was _another _thing to insult my dad's fatherly abilities.

And yeah, maybe he wasn't the most responsible father.

But he was trying, _ok?_

Then Cam attempted the most stupid thing in the universe- he tried to _sprint _forward and _headlock _me.

What a laugh.

I'm a pretty fast runner and I was away from him pretty fast. And then his headlock attempt?

It was pathetic. His headlock attempt gave me full access to his hand and I could easily reach his switchblade.

Once I had it in my grip, I jumped back. "You're a fool." I smirked at him.

"Sam!" he gasped. But he wasn't paying attention to me. He was staring at Casey's dark SUV pulling up into my driveway.

Casey jumped out and beelined over to Cam.

"Hello..._Cam._" he smirked, cracking his knuckles.

"Casey, meet _Cam_." I said, a smirk on my face. I was beyond relieved.

I turned to face a bewildered Cam. "Cam, meet _Casey_."

Cam turned back to Casey. "You're-_you're _Sam's new boyfriend?"

Casey rolled his eyes. "Uh, _yeah_. And her name is _Sammy._"

Now, I could tell that there was only one thing here bothering Cam.

Casey.

And by the look in his eyes, it wasn't for the reason I thought.

"Cam, you may as well just leave now." I said. "Before Casey beats you to a pulp. You may seem 'scary' and tough back in Boulder, but honestly, its only because you're the number one 'pusher' back there."

"What-"

"Face the facts. You're powerless without your drugs-and your _girlfriends. _Without them, you wouldn't seem powerful and controlling. You would be a pathetic boy sitting at home watching _The Hangover. _Wait. You already are."

Cam just blinked at Casey, and then he did something stunning. "You're right."

I was aghast. "What?"

"What?" Casey repeated.

"You're right, Sam, at least a little." he rolls his eyes a little, "but whatever. I know I'm a screw-up and a failure and whatever, but you can't exactly _blame _me for being like this when there are guys like this-" he points to Casey.

"Wai- wait a minute! Why are you pointing at Casey? What do you mean?"

"I mean, people who don't need other things or people to cover up their flaws. You know...what's the word..."

"Insecure?" I ask.

"Yeah. Whatever." Cam slumps a little. "Well, anyway, whatever. Keep the blade. I should probably be going on. Bye, Sam."

Dude. What was _happening?_

"Wait. Cam." I couldn't believe I was saying this.

"What are you _saying, _Sammy? Let him go!" Casey hissed.

"Cam-stop!" I was about to go after him when Casey grabbed my arm. "Sammy-stop-he's _playing _you! Can't you see?"

Cam turned back, "Yeah?"

"Um..." I held out his switchblade. "Here. Your blade. Just don't use it like you used to, okay?"

He closed my fingers around the blade and groaned. "You keep it, Sam. I don't want to do this whole you-keep-it-no-_you-_keep-it game or whatever." then he looked me in the eyes and before I had any idea what was going on, his hands were on my face and he was kissing me.

I don't know what happened first- Casey calling him a douchebag or Casey shoving him off me? I was too out of it to realize.

And then next thing I know, I was awake. I opened my eyes and blinked. I was on the grass. On the side of the house, where no one could really see. I was on the ground.

In my hand was that blade.

But wait. Why was there blood? I couldn't move. Or speak. I manage to fumble up and finally manage to pull out my cell phone and dial Casey's number.

In no time, Casey was in my yard, next to me, holding me steady.

I explained to him everything that had happened. About ho I called him over to help me with Cam, how Cam kissed me and he pushed Cam away and called him a douchebag.

Casey looked at me like I was crazy. "_Cam_? Me? I never came here, Sammy. I've been at Marissa's. That never happened. Are you okay?"

He felt my forehead and said, "God, it seems like you passed out or something. Its freaking burning out here."

"You're saying I dreamed all that?"

"Yeah...I guess so."

"Then where did this knife come from? And who's blood is this, because its not _mine!" _I waved the blade in front on his face.

"That?"  
"Yeah. If that whole kissing-thing was a dream, then something had to be real for me to have gotten the keys."

But what?

And who's _blood_ was this?

And most importantly...why had Cam spared me?


	8. Security

_Chapter Eight_

_**Security**_

"Casey," I said, placing my right palm lightly on his warm bare chest. My cold hand practically thawed against his skin, "we shouldn't be doing this."

He smiled, so small and sweet that it made my heart jump. "I know we shouldn't, but we are anyway." his hands on the small of my back. My cold skin was probably making his warm hands frozen.

In comparison to Casey, I was some sort of twisted, uglier version of a classic vampire. No, I did not have endless beauty, or beautiful porcelain skin, or amber eyes. But I had super-pale skin that would never seem to tan no matter how much sunlight I exposed it to, and my lips- NO makeup at all- were always, for some odd reason, a blood red color. And my eyes always seemed dead, with weird dark bruise-like bag-like raccoon-y reminescants, but not exactly.

It was horrifying looking in the mirror every morning and night, to say the least.

If _I _couldn't bear with looking at myself, how come Casey can? How come he stares at me with those wide, adoring eyes?

I could feel his eyes boring into my skin-exposed body and my face flushed. What was he thinking? He was probably thinking of how stupid I looked in this black bikini I had bought back in Colorado. And how I looked like a zombie or ghost or whatever with my pale skin and raccoony face (remember, I don't use any makeup. So I think this raccoony business is all a matter of my insomnia- I need to sleep more).

I looked incredibly stupid, and he looked incredibly hot. How did someone like him even bother with me?

Casey was tall, and his skin was this beautiful shade of natural-tan-but-not-_too_-golden-tan. It was perfect, especially since in the summer his hair always seemed to lighten up a shade. It darkened back up during autumn, but in the summer is was this shiny brown-auburn color. And it matched his eyes marvellously. His deep brown eyes, so wide and observant that I wish I could just stand up on my tiptoes and kiss him right now.

But I don't. Because he's still just looking at me. Not at my face, no. My body.

And its making me feel hella awkward, let me tell you.

I finally say, "Are you done soaking in my hideosity?"

"You're what?" he blinks and seems to come back to earth. His brown eyes meet my green ones. The only part of my body that go against my vampire-zombie thingie is my eye color.

"My ugliness." to put it bluntly.

This little thing I said seemed to seriously confuse and surprise Casey. "What? You're not...what..but.. Did you just call yourself _ugly_?"

I nod and bite my lips. I look down, letting my dark hair fall in front of my face.

Suddenly I'm being hugged. Not bear-hugged, not please-don't-cry hugged... It was an _I-love-you _hug.

Well, basically. He didn't really say 'I love you'. But he was hugging me in such a way that I knew he was doing it for more than just the sole purpose of a hug.

I let myself hug him back.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, leaning back a little to brush my hair from my face. "Just the way you are. Okay?"

I didn't say anything.

"Sammy," he said softly.

I was suddenly beginning to cry, and I don't even know why.

But actually I sort of do.

I was crying because I hated this, I hated being so...insecure. That 'dream' of mine, the supposed encounter with Cam we're he was talking about being insecure...I know now that none of that really happened, but the words still count.

I was crying right now because I was mad. Mad at waking up and looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, I look fine just the way I am. And then, later, I think of my face and want to cry. What must Casey think?

Do boys have that constant worry, that they're not good enough?

Its not like I _want _to be one of those self-conscious girls who care so much about how they look.

But every girl cares, one way or another. No matter how beautiful they truly _are _or _aren't_, they always end up thinking they're ugly.

I'm _so _not beautiful, but the fact that Casey was saying I _was, _made me so happy. Because that shows he really cares for me.

"Casey," I said as he wiped a tear off my face with his thumb. "Casey, don't lie, because I know you're lying. I'm...dis...gus...ting..."

Then, suddenly, we were the only people on the beach. For a few moments there, it was tense and silent and I could feel his fingers tighten against my shoulders, and then loosen up a moment later. His hands were on my shoulders and he lightly, gently pushed me back against the wall of the changing room shack.

He bent down, smiled that double-dimpled, perfect Casey smile, and said, "No, you're not. You're per...fect," and then kissed me and kissed me.

Who cares about how I ended up on the grass with the knife the other day?

Who cares about that strange dream?

Who cares if that text from Cam seriously freaked me out?

Who cares about Cam, at all?

Who cares if I'm going insane?...

I had Casey.

And Casey was here to _stay- _unlike any stupid scar Cam would have possibly inflicted on me.

**Casey's point of view**

I honestly didn't get it. Why girls thought they were ugly. Why they had such low self-esteems. They just didn't get it, did they?

No guy in the universe could ever explain to a girl the truth. Here's the truth:

A girl doesn't have to work to make people appreciate her and her looks. She just has to be herself and wait for the _person _to appreciate her and her looks.

Do you get that?

And Sammy, saying she was ugly was ridiculous. Here I was, staring at her because I thought she was so ridiculously cute being so small and pale and pixie-like, and then she blurts something along the lines of, "Stop looking at my ugliness."

I was so confused and taken back. Ugly?

What?

Excuse me, did I hear that correct?

"What...you...excuse me. Did you just say you were ugly?" I asked.

She nodded sullenly and I, being 100% serious here, say, "But you're _beautiful..."_

She was suddenly crying. I want to take her hand, sit her down and hold her close to me in the sand, and tell her how pretty I really think she is. I'd tell her how I think her eyes are the prettiest shade of green I've ever seen, and how her eyelashes are so long and how I think its adorable that the shade of her eyelashes mismatches her dyed hair color. I hope her hair will soon grow back to her natural color. I could already see some of her old brown growing in her roots. She looks great in this dark blackish-brownish, absolutely stunning, but I miss her old color, too.

I would also tell her how I love kissing her because it makes me feel like I'm kissing the sweetest, most delightful candy ever, and how she always tastes of that tropical-orange flavored gum that I love so much. And how her warm mouth on mine causes this little internal fire in my chest that always erupts into huge flames during our more intimate moments.

I would tell her how I love holding her, just holding her, just standing and looking at her, my hands on her, holding her...

But I didn't say any of that, nor did I sit her down like that. Instead, I hugged her. My hands were running up and down her back, trying to soothe her, I could feel each sharp curve of her back, and her shoulders and arms were so small and bony and delicate that she felt more like a porcelain doll to me than a high school girl.

"Sammy," I said. _I love you. I freaking adore you. I'm practically obsessed, but not in that creepy way where the guy follows the girl around and thinks of her 24/7 and imagines her naked at night._

Okay, so I might be a little guilty of the last thing- but just for a couple times. Barely even. Everytime the image of her completely unclothed came in my mind, I tried to tune it out and think of something else. Because I knew an image of her naked was just too overwhelming for me when we both just recently reconnected.

"You're beautiful, just the way you are." I was such a lame sometimes. I can get cheesy. But hey. She needs this.

"Casey, don't lie. I know you're lying. I'm, dis-gus-ting." she prolonged that word.

She could never have been more wrong. Disgusting? Yeah right. She was so _not _disgusting.

And then I looked back at her face and I felt a burn in my throat. A burn in my heart. A burn in my chest and throughout my lungs. This huge, flickering burn, vibrating across my whole body.

Shit, I thought. No. Nonononono.

Noooooo.

This was exactly what I had been dreading ever since re-meeting her this summer. I dread this moment every time I'm with her, everytime we kiss.

The feeling of wanting her, like this.

I feel so stupid, so lame, so perverted and sick. What makes it worse, is that she's barely even innocent in those circumstances, but she's so sheltered from my insane thoughts.

I wanted her, and I needed her. I didn't care when or where. I didn't care if it was even on a beach like this, just...

Shut. Up. I need to shut. Up. _Now._

That burning was still sizzling all around me. My fingers tightened on her shoulders from the mental thought of it all.

The reason I had been dreading this moment is because I knew once it happened, it would keep happening. Maybe I'm just a freak. Maybe I'm a twisted pervert. Maybe its hormones?

Yeah. That should be my excuse. This is all testosterone's fault.

I hated having this feeling, because it made me think of something so freakishly revolting in my mind.

She... Already... Knows... As in, she's not unexperienced like I am. As if knowing the fact that I'm not ever going to be her First isn't bad enough.

I needed to get my mind off things. Off of those specific things. I knew the crazy thoughts and That Feeling would start up again later, but, ugh.

So I finally gently led her up against the wall of a small building that's the "changing rooms" and I kissed her deeply. I swore to myself that I would keep on kissing her until That Feeling was safely hidden and tucked back away wherever it came from in the first place.

**A/N: **Ah. Its dumb. I figured there was barely any Cammy in the previous chapter so I'd crank it up in this one. Was it bad? Did I make Casey seem too old-fashioned? Sorry. I like writing like that. _She was undeniably the prettiest girl my eyes have ever laid on _ sounds more sophistocated than the plain old, _She was so hot. _Lmao. Well, anyway, comment. Please? Thanks.

Oh and, sorry if you were disturbed by Casey's POV. You shouldn't be, because trust me, I've gone in and under in practicing/studying the male mind. Only because I want to write a story from a guy's POV someday so I try. I think I'm much much better at Casey's POV than Sammy's cuz I can actually get a personality for him, whereas I make Sammy sound like a drunken pot-addict, right? Am I right? Doesn't Sammy sound so stupid when I write? Sorry. I need to work on that. Please give me any insight on how to improve my writing, if you have any. I would love it and I always take advice into consideration. Thankyou.


	9. Teenagers

**A/N: **I have all the other chapters' drafts done, so just comment quick and I'll post quick. Two more chapters left! Comment! Thanks.

**Disclaimer: **Chapter title based off a My Chemical Romance song.

_Chapter Nine_

_**Teenagers**_

I was having a moment. One of those This-Is-So-Fun-But-If-Someone-Catches-Me-I'm-Dead moments.

I was jamming out to my iPod, on the sidewalk. I feel like such a lame, but its true. I was meeting the little gang at Marissa's. These days, the only places I seem to be are Marissa's house, Casey's house, the mall, the beach, and my own home. Nowhere else. But I don't mind. I don't want to be one of those overly-social girls who's everywhere all the time. I'd rather be discreet and just MYB. Mind My own Business. I used to be one of those girls back in Colorado. It was weird, the way Cam controlled me, you'd almost think he was my pimp or something.

Ugh. Okay. I'm supposed to keep my mind _off _Cam. It was a promise I made to Casey last night. You see, we were watching _The Hangover _in this room and I accidentally fell asleep and then according to Casey, I was screaming something about Cam and knives and speed dial in my sleep. I don't remember screaming, but Casey said it would be better for my health to get my mind off Cam.

I am secretly scared. I can't help but think of Cam. He's so manipulative, sneaky, creepy. He's like a drug. You know its bad for you, but somehow you let yourself get attached and addicted. And then, no matter how many times you try to get rid of it, it keeps haunting you and the withdrawal symptoms kick in, and then you're screaming in your sleep until your parent or friend or boyfriend sends you to rehab for it.

This had happened to me for Cam. When I met him, I knew I shouldn't be his friend. But somehow, I was lured in and suddenly he had pimped me out to be his girlfriend, and as long as I stayed his girlfriend he supplied me with the drug I needed most- him, because if he had left me then, I would have gone crazy. So then when I tried to quit my "addiction", he kept coming back and haunting me and soon I was screaming in my sleep. Casey has eventually sent me to "rehab"- an in-the-mind rehab. To stop thinking of Cam.

But oh well. Maybe this inner rehab will work. I was walking to Marissa's house today because I had time. I was listening to My Chemical Romance's "Teenagers" on repeat. And I was singing along and having the time of my life, on inner rehab. Besides, I have a better drug now! Maybe I'm still getting over the deathly drug of Cam, but now I have the drug of Casey! Casey wasn't deathly, Casey was good. Casey was the opposite of a drug, actually! No, no, he was a drug! A good one! Casey is a medicine! Yeah! A medicine! Sorry. I'm yelling. I'm sort of shouting along to My Chemical Romance so I'm also screaming in my mind.

By the time I reached Marissa's house, I was practically bellowing, "THEY SAY THAT TEENAGERS SCARE, THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME!"

I didn't need to ring the bell. Marissa opened the door looking really good in a black and pink tracksuit. She was with Danny and Casey. I was still in jam-out mode, so I sang the next line still.

Casey smiled and laughed, and being the best boyfriend ever, he sang along,

"SO TUCK IN YOUR CLOTHES, OR STRIKE A VIOLENT POST! Maaaaybe the'll leave you alone, but not me!"

It was pretty great, let me tell you, because Danny and Marissa didn't even know the song. Which was another reason I loved Casey. He liked the same music as me. Were we soul mates or what? Hee-hee. He was a medicine. Heh. Heheheh. I might fall over from laughing. I might break my face from my grin, I might lose my voice from singing, I might I might I might I might...

I might die from happiness!

Is this how it feels when you officially get over your addiction to a drug? Because I'm so over Cam, and I'm ha-aaaappy.

I yanked my iPod out of my hears but still sang, "Teenagers scare, the living shit out of me!"

How much I love this band.

Marissa sighed and looked over at Casey and then me, "I'll go get my iPod dock, and then you guys can teach us these songs you always know and we don't."

So Marissa retrieved her dock and after playing "Teenagers" a million times, Marissa and Danny were singing along.

We switched to a different My Chemical Romance song. "Na Na Na".

It was such an easy song to memorize. It was just pure fun.

"Drugs, give me drugs, give me drugs. I don't need it, but I sell what'cha got. Take the cash, and I keep it..." (I sang along.)

"Love, give me love, give me love! I don't need it, but I take what I want from your heart. But I keep it in a bag, in a box, gimme more, gimme more, gimme moooore." (Casey sang that while giving me a big smile and wink. And then I blushed like crazy.)

It was like, was love really such a weird drug? Why did it make you so addicted? It was driving me crazy.

Marissa seemed to like MCR enough. Danny looked like he thought they were okay enough. I bet Danny listened to Bon Jovi or something. Hahaha. Bon Jovi. What a joke.

Finally, Marissa stopped her rocking out- Marissa looked absolutely breathtaking while shaking her hair around and singing. I wondered how I looked? Probably not as good as Marissa. I wondered why Casey even wastes his time looking at me like that.

After MCR was over, she asked, "What song next?" and she seemed all pumped so I laughed and said, "Casey can pick." so Casey began scrolling through my iPod playlist.

He kept stopping and smiling at things. I was getting antsy. Had I accidentally downloaded something embarassing on there? Had I accidentally bought a Miley Cyrus song while buyin MCR songs? Why was he smirking?

Finally Casey blew me away. Literally, I almost fell over. Did he have ESP? How could he read my mind? Dear sweet baby Jesus.

I mean, I'm sort of agnostic but listening to a Christian band is not beyond me especially when the band is screamo and _good. _He was playing "Love Addict" by Family Force 5. Damn. I haven't listened to that in months.

He was giving me these smug-ish looks that made me crawl over to him on Marissa's lawn and give him a lingering kiss. The kiss was only half over before I pulled away.

He blinked and sort of instictively leaned in for more, but I smirked and pulled away. "_Addicted _yet?" I breathe, trying to sound all cheesy-seductive on purpose, as a joke.

He laughed nervously and sort of puppy-dog nodded. I paused and studied him... He looked so...longingly at me. So pathetically cute.

"Are you kidding?" he breathed back. "I'm freaking hooked."

I did something really impulsive then- I grabbed his collar and pulled him in to finish off the kiss. Then when we pulled away, I grinned and said, "Cool story, bro. Come back another time. Public service is over."

This made his face furiously flush over. I laughed. He was always so smooth but at times he was more speechless then I had been when I had woken up to my hair cut all around me.

_Stop! 911! Cam Thought Alert! Go into inner rehab ASAP._

I crawled back over to Marissa who was just staring at Casey with her eyes bugged wide open. Danny was doing the same.

Why? What was so shocking about Casey and I kissing? _They _kissed a lot, too!

But as I looked up to Casey, I saw what they saw. Oh. My. God.

Casey's was facing us, so his back was facing the street. He was looking at us strangely because he didn't know why we were staring.

Behind Casey was...

A guy.

A teenage guy.

One in a black leather jacket, black skinny jeans in black combat boots. He had messy, shaggy black hair and piercingly freakish and manipulative blue eyes.

He was Cam, flesh and bones.

In his hands, he had a switchblade...

And he looked ready to tear us all apart..._flesh and bones_.

Cam's blue eyes locked on mine.

Casey was still confused. "Sammy-"

Then, as Cam was just on the verge of slicing Casey apart, I screamed.

It was one of my famous blood-curdling screams that probably (hopefully) made the neighbors call the police on us. I hope they did.

But each house on East Jasmine was way to far apart for anyone else to hear. Goddammit!

Casey whipped around at my scream.

He saw Cam. Cam saw him. Danny grabbed Marissa.

And then Cam slowly reached down and clicked off the iPod dock.

"Love Addict" stopped screaming. It was silent.

Cam stared at Casey for a moment. Then he went for me. Almost immedietly Casey also went for me, althoug faster.

I appreciated that.

You know that dream I had the other day? The dream where Cam showed up outside my house and I called Casey? Remember how I had been so smart that day, talking out Cam and dialing behind my back?

Well, that was just a dream.

Because in reality, facing Cam, I'm speechless. I'm not clever or smart or coy. I'm frozen in shock. I'm scared as hell.

My drug has come back for one final hit.

But this time, the hit I'll be taking of him is going to be the one that kills me.

Holy shit, these Drugs-to-Cam metaphors are so freaking spot-on that its scary. I have to stop them. They might be jinxing me.

Cam isn't saying anything at all. He's just walking fiercely, not looking at all scared of Casey.

Casey's not looking scared of Cam, either.

In my 'dream'/hallucintion the other day, I had introduced Cam and Casey to each other.

I was not introducing them right now. I had a feeling there wasn't a need for one.

Cam pointed the knife at me. "You, left, _me." _he choppily breathed.

I couldn't move or speak. Cam then lunged for me with his knife and Casey threw a blow so hard at Cam that Cam practically flew backward.

That's their difference. Where Casey is actually strong and a good fighter, Cam's only defense is his knife. He can't use his natural strength-he has none.

Cam didn't fall back though, he stumbled and then regained balance as he lunged again.

Marissa screamed, Danny got up to possibly help fight Cam, I think. Cam's knife dug right into my left arm, hard. I screamed so hard that I thought I might die right then. The blood! There was blood. So much dark, liquidy, dripping...blood...

"Sammy!" Suddenly Casey was a death machine. He was hurting Cam, for real. I didn't stop him. I wanted Cam dead. Casey should just kill him.

I still couldn't stand the sight of watching Casey beat someone up, even if it was Cam, even if it was for me. He was always such a loving person. He was always so sweet, to everyone, so kind, just a generally wonderful guy. I knew he was capable of beating up people but I knew he never did it, not really. I couldn't watch my sweet Casey beating up anyone. I couldn't stand it. I also couldn't stand the feeling of the blinding, burning pain in my arm. The dark, dripping blood. The stinging, horrible pain. In fact, I couldn't _stand _at all.

And when gravity can't hold you up any longer, one simple thing happens.

You fall.

Yes, I fainted. Everything was silent and blacked out in my head now. But I could still practically see everything in replay and slow motion. Cam's...knife...cutting...deep...into...my...upper...arm... The blinding pain. The blood. My blood, drip-drip-dripping onto my shoes and the grass. My arm, so weak and limp, the stabbing pain. Casey...beating up...Cam...after he saw what Cam had done to me.

I wondered where I would be when I woke up? Would I be in a hospital bed, like in almost _every _book/story/movie when someone faints and waked up in a hospital. Or would I still be on the grass...or would this all be a a dream/hallucination (dream + hallucination = dreacinatton?) like before?

Who knew.

Who freaking knew.

And who cared?

Let me die from blood loss! Just leave me on the grass and let me die! I couldn't see or hear or speak, but I could still think! Would it be like this when I was dead? Or is it only when I faint?

Suddenly I felt the numbness in my body loosen up and start tingling awake.

The first thing I felt was hands, on me. Massaging my shoulders, my un-stabbed arm, moving over my chest and my resting on my stomach.

Who was doing this, and what right did they have to touch me like that? I was going to kick them when I woke up. If it was a doctor in the hospital, I would sue. Doctors can't do this! Its perverted! Unless it was some sort of cure to my insanity...

Jesus.

The hands suddenly started tickling me on my stomach.

I laughed before my eyes opened, actually. When they did, I could see...the doctor's face?

No, it was Casey.

Oh! Casey! _Casey! _I had totally forgotten that _Casey _could also be the one with his hands on my stomach. It was true, too. Casey was leaning over me, smiling, and then when he saw I was awake, he began massaging me all over my upper body again. When he got to my neck, he bent down and kissed me so sweetly. I melted into a puddle. Practically. What a pleasant awakening this was! So much better than all those hospital awakenings. Su-ckahs! They didn't have superhot, supersweet boyfriends like Casey. Hah!

Wow, my brain needs to slow down. I think I'm seriously going crazy.

I didn't care if I was crazy, I was still so happy to see Casey. I looked around the room. It was my dad's room, on my dad's own bed. I looked at my arm that had been stabbed. It was all wrapped up professionally.

Casey saw me eyeing it, "We already took you to the hospital. They fixed it up as best they could so you wouldn't lose more blood. They drugged you out once again so you wouldn't feel any more of the pain. Your dad's plenty worried but allowed me to come down here and wake you up, Keyes. You're mind is probably going crazy, don't worry, that's just the after-effects of the tranquilizer they used."

No wonder! So maybe I wasn't going insane. Woooh!

I blinked back at Casey. He had woken me up in the most adorable way.

"Where's Cam?" my mouth felt so dry.

"Hospital." Casey cringed. "Shit, Sammy, I didn't know how bad I hurt him. He hurt you. I was mad. I... He..." he looked nervous and ashamed. "He has two broken bones."

I almost choked. "What? Really! Where!"

Casey looked even more guilty. "His right arm and one rib."

"Casey-!"

"Stop! I know. I shouldn't have hurt him so hard. I honestly didn't mean to- its not like I regularly beat people up." Casey blushed. "I'm just lucky they let me off the hook for it. It was self-defense."

"But he didn't go for _you._"

"Yeah, but if someone if threatening or hurting you or someone else, your allowed to hurt them as self-defense. It doesn't _literally _have to be defense for _yourself. _For example, lets just say we were married-"

I blushed. "Casey.." I said queitly.

"It's just a scenario. Anyway, we're married and have three kids. We live in a house. And one day someone enters our house with a gun, pointing it at our kids. Even though he's not pointing the gun at _me, _I'm still allowed to hurt him, because he's endangering my family. It's self-defense. See?"

I was still blushing because of the married and kids thing.

"Sammy!" he laughed. "It was just an example." he leaned down and kissed me intensely.

Suddenly we heard coughing. We pulled away and saw my dad in the stairway (remember his room is in the basement) and he was looking uncomfortable. He was "coughing" to get us to stop. Or was it coughing from all the smoking he used to do? Who knew.

"Sorry," Casey blushed. "I, um-"

My dad raised his eyebrows. "Mmh-hmm."

"She's awake now." Casey said meekly.

Dad tisked and then said, "I saw the hand number you did on my daughter just a moment ago."

Now Casey was about as red as his sister Heather's hair.

"Dad!" I whined. "Stop!"

My dad didn't stop. "Pretending to massage her, so you can really feel her up? That's a new one. Never seen _that _before."

Casey's face was still red. "I-I was really- I was really massaging her! I swear. Mr. Keyes-can I call you that?-I would _never _do that! I would never pretend..." he looked so uncomfortable.

I was suddenly so mad at my dad. Casey practically saved my life from Cam and my dad was treating him like he treated Cam!

"GO AWAY." I yelled at Dad. "You're so ungrateful. Casey has done nothing but stop me from smoking, try to get my mind off Cam, and _save me ass. _You're just so ignorant to see that? You're so unthankful and unconsiderate. JUST STOP TALKING TO US."

Everyone was suddenly very silent.

"Sam." my dad said solemnly.

A normal boyfriend would get up and say, "I should probably get going now..." but Casey was not a normal boyfriend. He was better.

He seriously stayed put beside me.

My dad bit his lip. He looked at Casey and then me and then Casey. Then he sighed and said, "I suppose you're right. I should probably apologize, Casey. I'm so used to being overprotective that I completely forgot how trustworthy you always were. And thank you."

With that, my dad left us alone. Thank the Lords.

"Goddamn, I was so freaked out." Casey whispered once Dad was gone. "And just so you know, I really was massaging you. I wasn't just trying to-"

"I know." I smiled sweetly. "I was the one receiving the massage, right? I know."

Casey laughed.

I took his hands. "But I wouldn't mind what you did, either way."

He shook his head. "Not now. Not today. You need rest, okay? Your whole mind, your body, your system needs a break from the world."

I could barely move but I complained anyway. "Casey, being with you is the best relaxation I could ever receive."

He looked at me with a weird expression-like this was paining him. "I think you're great." he whispered. "But I just can't stay with you right now. Keep your phone on, I'll be calling and texting. I have some business to attend to. I'll tell you about _that _later."

It was so disappointing seeng him leave.

For the rest of the day, I watched TV, texted Marissa, Casey, Holly, Dot, and Billy, talked on the phone, and read _The Great Gatsby _by Scott Fitzgerald for the umpteenth time. Dad wouldn't let me outside the house. "You're brain isn't in place right now. You need rest." he would say.

Whatever.

Finally I received an urgent message from Marissa on the home phone. "Sammy-holy crap-your ex-boyfriend who tried to kill you? Cam? He-he-"

The message was cut off.

He what? Dad wouldn't let me call her back. "You can't think about Cam right now." he would say. "Tomorrow morning, okay?"

I feel like I might just rip a whole into the wall. I want to lie down and never wake up. I needed to find out what happened to Cam.

Soon.

Tomorrow morning could wait.

So, I snuck downstairs and called Marissa on my cell phone secretly without Dad knowing.

**A/N: **Okay, since I already have all the other chapters done, all you have to do is comment quick, and I'll post the next chapter quick. I really enjoyed writing this story. I have a minor case of emotional problems myself (a really mild case of schitzophrenia). Schitzophrenia is when you hallucinate a lot and see things that aren't there and imagine things and act like they happened when they didn't. It's when the person is basically in their own world, always thinking of freaky things and freaking out over things that didn't even happen. It's a really serious condition when its really big but I have a really, really mild case of it (I'm not insane, I'm just in my own world all the time and sometimes I imagine weird things). I've ben diagnosed with it. So, basically, I'm familiar with all these hallucination feelings. My mom is also a psychatrist and a therapist soo. Writing stories like this just helps. :) COMMENT! Please? :)


	10. Testimonies

_Chapter Ten_

_**Testimonies**_

"Uh...hey." I felt so awkward. I so did not deserve this. I can't believe I was being forced into visiting Cam. Here. In the small white room that made me feel like suffocating.

Cam looked up with a pained expression, his hair still as messy as usual. "Sam?"

I put my hand on the edge of the white bed. "It's Sammy. It's always been Sammy. No one calls me Sam."

He gave a little grin. "So does that mean I should call _myself _Cammy?"

I actually laughed. A little. "Cam..." I looked away. I didn't know what I wanted to ask. "I-you-ugh."

Cam slapped his hand on the table next to him. "If you wanna ask me anything, ask me here, where I can't go out of crazy."

"I hate to see you here." I stated.

He didn't say anything. He stared straight ahead; for a split second I thought he would lash out and hit me or something.

"What will your parents think back in Boulder?" I started to rattle on. "Will they visit you? Cam, you-"

"No. They're dead." he snarled.

And how come I never knew this? Suddenly I realized that throughout all of the time I had knon Cam, I had never really _known _him. I didn't know is he had siblings, or parents, or family at all...

Well, now I knew about the parent thing at least.

Cam had been put into a rehab center, so cleverly named the Santa Martina Rehabilitation Center.

Finally Cam choked out, "Please go. Go back to your perfect boyfriend. Go back to your perfect life. Go to college and get married and have kids, I could care less. Just go."

I stood frozen in place.

"Just _go!" _he finally snapped. "Why did they even allow you to visit me? Isn't this illegal? I need a cigarette."

I whacked his arm and he winced in pain. "Your boyfriend showed no mercy." he croaked.

I rolled my eyes and pointed to my wrapped up arm that still hurt a lot. I needed to apply special gel on it everyday. The medicine/gel-stuff was really greasy-feeling and it came in this tall metal tube. It was pretty gross. And I needed to re-wrap my arm everyday, also. The only two people I allowed to do this on me were Dad and Casey."Of course he showed no mercy. You tried to kill me."

Cam grimaced in pain again. "I'm an _idiot."_

"That you are."

He looked up at me and through his messy hair I could make out his eyes-smiling. His mouth wasn't, but his eyes were.

I reached over and pushed aside his hair to see his eyes better. Those blue eyes, the ones that can so easily manipulate and persuade.

He began to look really faint, and I knew I should probably leave soon. "Okay. Bye, Cam. Sorry about the broken rib and arm. But you shouldn't have stabbed me, or followed me to California anyway. But I should be leaving. I hope this rehab works, because if it does, you might actually be able to do something with you life. Like, maybe cut you hair, you know. But also, I think that you were, at a point, an OK boyfriend. Okay, maybe you were overcontrolling but I know you well enough to know that you _sort...of..._cared about me. So when you're finished with all this rehab and stuff-and I know your're also in serious trouble for the drug dealing, but please promise not to say my name anytime because I really don't want to be called to court-" I knew I was rambling nonsense just to make him feel a little better but-

"The prosecutor wants to call in for a testimony. They know you're connected to me back in Colorado."

I froze. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "My. Prosecutor. Wants. You. To. Make. A. Statement."

"What does he want me to say?"

"The prosecutor is a _she _and she wants you to say anything that could put me in jail." he didn't look moved. "Good luck." he said drily.

"Well, I'm not going in. I don't want to be a part of this."

"Sam_my, _if you don't go in to give them information, you go to jail too."

I paused. "What?"

"You give them information, they give you a get out of jail free card. You _don't _give, they put you in jail with me. So what'cha gonna do?"

I thought. "Give them information?" I squeaked. "I can't go to jail. I just can't." and then I turned and left before he could say anything.

I couldn't go to jail. I knew I couldn't.

And I wouldn't.

**Nine days later. In court.**

There was Cam, with his lawyer. He was in a suit and his hair was combed. He looked bored. Had he done this before?

The judge was a big African American man, he looked scary. Like he wouldn't take any nonsense.

I gulped.

The pretty, petite little prosecutor lady gave Cam evil glances. The judge was chatting it up with someone else.

Suddenly everything began. The judge took his place and the prosecutor stood up to make her opening statement.

I gulped again. I shouldn't be here.

I looked back at Casey who was seated in the back with my dad and Marissa and Danny (witnesses). Casey looked freakishly hot in his suit. Cam just looked deranged.

The prosecutor lady began-her name was Miss Donacelli.

I practically fell asleep. What did it matter? This had nothing to do with me. Sort of.

Donacelli's clincher: "...Cam Stalin is guilty for attempted murder."

Woah. Stalin. I never knew his last name. Hmm. _Stalin_? Like the _facsist, Joseph _Stalin? Or dictator? Or whatever he was?

Interesting. I wonder if Cam was a descendant of Joseph Stalin. Cam _was _a very good manipulator, come to think of it...

Cam's lawyer-Mr. Engall-stood up for his opening statement just as Donacelli sat down.

Engall's statement was weak-he stated that Cam was not attempting murder, there's no way to prove it.

It was a big lie, we all knew. We all knew Cam was trying to kill me. But he was true-there was no way to prove it. Of course, I had been stabbed. But, I was fine. I was not dead. There is no way to prove that Cam's intentions were to kill me.

After the opening statements, I was called up. I felt dizzy. Sick. I saw my dad and Casey and Marissa and Danny giving me encouraging thumbs-up and smiles. Casey blew me a kiss with a funny wink. I laughed inside. He was too cute.

Finally I was facing Engall. Here's how it went.

**Engall**: Ms. Keyes, you were on the receiving end of Mr. Stalin's knife on the noon of June 16th, were you or were you not?

**Me**: Yes, sir.

Engall: And did Stalin ever _say _the words 'kill' at that noon of June 16th?

I thought about it. Did he? No. He did not. He said "You left me" and then went psycho.

**Me**: No, sir.

Engall: Did he ever threaten to kill you anytime before?

I thought about that, too. Yeah, he did! But wait. That was only in my dream/hallucination. My dreamcination.

**Me**: No, sir...

**Engall**: And were you ever in a relationship with this young man?

**Me**: Yes, sir..

I didn't like where this was going. At all. _Casey _was here. Oh God.

**Engall**: What sort of activities were you involved in with Mr. Stalin back when you were in a relationship with Mr. Stalin?

_OH GOD_.

**Me**: Can you rephrase that? Or give me an example? I don't quite comprehend.

**Engall **(calmly): What types of things did you and Stalin do together as a couple? Were you both in a certain extracurricular? Did you both enjoy the same sort of hobby? Books? Music? Movies? Did you go to a certain restaurant often? Were you sexually active with him? Did you two get along? Just name a few.

**Me**: We weren't in certain extracurriculars...

**Engall**: And? What about similar hobbies and interests?

**Me**: Not really.

**Engall**: Books?

**Me**: Nothing I know of.

**Engall**: Music.

**Me**: We both like screamo, I guess?

As if that helped anything.

**Engall**: What about places? Special places?

**Me**: His apartment...?

**Engall**: Were-or are- you sexually active with him?

Casey was in the room. Goddammit! Ugh. I cleared my throat.

**Me**: Slightly.

**Engall**: What does 'slightly' mean? Define.

**Me**: A little.

I tried not to look Cam in th eyes. I knew he was dying to add something to make me look bad. Or was he?

**Engall**: About how often did you sleep with him?

I could lie. This was court. I could lie and they'd never know. Why would they believe Cam? I could easily say, 'We weren't _really..' _but instead I said the truth.

**Me**: I'm not sure...not a lot...I know that for sure.

**Engall**: Moving on. Was he nice to you? Did he treat you well?

_Tell the truth_, _Sammy_.

**Me**: He was OK. In the middle.

**Engall**: Define.

**Me**: He, um, was a little forceful.

**Engall: But not too forceful? Only a 'little'?**

The judge intercepted. "Objection. Let Ms. Keyes define herself. Don't lead her any way." (_GO MR_. _JUDGE_!)

**Engall**: Let me rephrase that. How 'forceful' was he and why?

**Judge**: Sustained.

**Me**: He was in the middle. On the more side. He pressured me into...

**Engall**: Into?

**Me**: Into things like. Drugs. I don't know. Drinking? I never drank before I met him.

I paused, and then added

**Me**: ...and sex. You know.

**Engall**: Is that it? He didn't ever threaten to kill you if you didn't listen to him?

**Judge**: Objection. Rephrase the question.

**Engall: **He never threatened or forced anything else?

**Judge: **Objection. Rephrase once more.

**Engall: **Did he ever threaten you?

**Judge: **Sustained.

**Me: **Yes-no-not really-

**Engall: **One answer.

**Me: **He threatened to dump me.

**Engall: **And that's all? Nothing else?

**Me: **No, sir.

**Engall: **Nothing further.

**Judge: **Nothing further.

I guess that was it for Engall's interrogation. I don't know what angle Engall was going for. He was trying to make Cam seem _innocent- _why was he asking me those weird questions that made Cam look bad?

Ohhh. Because I clarified that he did _not _threaten me.

Huh. Engall is pretty smart.

Next up, the prosecutor wanted to interrogate me. Since the prosecutor's job is to make Cam look _guilty, _she must have it easy. Because he is.

**Donacelli: **On the noon of June 16th, you were at your friends house?

I pointed to Marissa and said

**Me: **Her house, yes.

**Judge: **Let the record show that she is pointing to Ms. McKenze.

**Donacelli: **You were with whom?

**Me: **Danny Urbanski, Casey Acosta, Marissa McKenze.

**Donacelli: **Did you know Mr. Stalin would show?

**Me: **No, ma'am.

**Donacelli: **Nothing further.

Okay. If she was going to end it that quick, that was fine with me. Besides, my time in court was over. I was so glad I never had to come back and do this again. It was freakishly scary.

Not to mention, boring.

Dad took us all out to dinner that night at Chipotle. He left early for God-knows-what and Marissa and Danny left early for a movie date.

Casey was driving me home and we talked about anything. The World Series. Osama bin Laden. The Killers. Then about upcoming movies. Transformers 4. Pirates of the Carribean 4. Jurassic Park 4.

We talked about anything but Cam. Because he was over. Out of our lives. For good. Thank. God.

I was finally free from the Drug.

**A/N: **NEXT CHAPTER = LAST ONE! I'm reeeeeeealllly excited to post that last chapter, like Ahh! I spent the most time on it and I love it because it wraps up the whole story perfectly (in my eyes at least). And Sammy's emotions go way deeper than any of the other chapters I've done. Its really detailed and descriptive, like every separate single thought has its own separate line to be said. And also, I think you guys will like the Epilogue that comes with it... Just saying... (: COMMENT FAST!


	11. Sentenced

**Chapter 11**

_**Sentenced**_

_The finale of the story "Run Devil Run"_

Michael Jackson. Michael the-freaking-King-of-Pop Jackson. Think about Michael Jackson, Sammy! THINK.

How come I'm thinking of Michael Jackson? How come I'm thinking of John Lennon know? How come I can't stop thinking about them. Why? I honestly have no idea.

I'm suddenly having a flashback.

_I really shouldn't, _I had said.

He had given me a gentle push, steering me forward. _You really should, _he had said back.

I had glared at him. _This isn't fair. I don't want to see him. I feel bad._

He had lowered his eyebrows a little. _You feel _bad? _What did you have for breakfast? He nearly killed you!_

For some reason, that conversation keeps running through my head. Why? I have no idea, again. These days I never seem to have an answer for anything.

John Lennon.

Michael Jackson.

_He nearly killed you!_

John Lennon.

Michael Jackson.

_He nearly killed-_

"Sammy?"

I look up. There he is! Casey. Casey's words keep replaying in my head. _He nearly killed you._

"Casey, I can't do this." I shake my head. "I just can't."

"Sammy.." suddenly Casey looks upset, too. "I know. I know. It must be terrible for him. For you, too. It's unfair. He should have just gotten a life sentence for jail."

I still couldn't believe Cam had been tried and convicted for two murders. Back in Colorado, he apparently killed his little sister Jenna (he said it was by accident but that wasn't a good enough excuse, apparently) and a girl named Sofia who apparently had sickle-celled anemia and died from blood loss, from one of his knife slashes at her. I never knew. That's creepy. Scary. He hadn't been caught until now? How? How did people get away with these things?

Apparently three anonymous (to the public) sources ratted him out with good proof. They had brought taped phone conversations in which Cam is discussing the killings to someone else (the anonymous to public source).

I still couldn't handle seeing Cam for the last time ever. I think I was going to faint, I couldn't believe what was going to happen next.

I knew this was illegal in California. Or so I heard. Apparently, according to some people, it was. I never looked it up, but I guess this only legal in states with big cities (like New York, Massachusetts, Washington, Illinois) and illegal in only a couple. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it _was _legal in California. Maybe it wasn't.

One thing for sure? It was legal in Colorado. And since Cam is a resident of Colorado, _not _California, and since the two killings happened in Colorado, this was allowed for Cam.

The jury thought this is what he deserved.

So he had finally been sentenced.

Casey pulls me along on my arm gently, and I stop before the big gray door. His face is solemn. "Good luck in there. Don't let it get to you. Say your final farewell and come back to me. I'll be waiting here- I don't care if you take two minutes or six hours, I'll be here. I'll check on you every ten minutes, okay? I don't want you to strangle yourself or anything."

I gave a little tear-stained smile. "Thanks." wasn't Casey the best boyfriend ever?

I headed inside the door. The big metal bars were creepy.

I found Cam, in his orange jumper suit, looking sullen and alone. His hair was tousled and messy as usual. His blue eyes seemed duller than ever. What had happened?

"Hey." he says as he looks up at me.

"Hi." his blue eyes meet my green. I'm officially scared of him and I want to run, far, far away.

I take ahold of a bar for support, because my knees feel so wobbly and weak that they can't even support me to stand up. Oh God, I can't do this. I just can't.

"Cam..." my voice is shaky. His body isn't just a body anymore. It has an outline. A faint outline. Suddenly I can see him for real. Tears are running down my face. "Oh, Cam. I don't know what to say."

He looks at his hands. "Say goodbye. Say good luck. Tell me you'll spit on my grave."

"I wouldn't." I say, cautiously. "The spitting thing, I mean. I would never do that."

He snorts a little. "I'm planning on being cremated anyway."

"Oh." the words are stuck in my throat. Oh Lordie. Oh sweet Jesus. I want to die right here. I want to melt into the Earth and...

"You'll be there, won't you?"

I covered my face. "I don't want to. I won't. Tell me I shouldn't."

"I want you to come." he whispers, and he puts his rough hands over mine on the bar I'm holding. "I think it'll make it better for me."

"Why? You tried to kill me." I'm sobbing now.

He locks eyes with me. "I know, Sam!" he starts freaking out suddenly. "I love you! I do! I love you! But I'm mental, Sam. I have a problem. Maybe its not a real problem that doctors can diagnose but I swear its a problem. Its a problem for _me! _I love you. I couldn't stand to see you with him."

I knew he meant Casey. But what is he talking about. Cam was a jerk to me. He never loved me. He was lying right now. He was a manipulator. I couldn't fall for this.

He continues, "I couldn't stand to see you with anyone else. I may not have shown it, but I love you. Maybe I was mean. Sorry. I wasn't good with emotions. I'm hardwired into mean, okay? I couldn't live the rest of my life knowing you'd be with him. Or other guys. Of course, I could have just killed _him_, but then you could move on to another guy! And another! You'd grow up. There was no way of keeping you to myself, and since _I _couldn't have you, no one could. I thought I should save myself the pain of knowing you'll be with someone else and just get rid of you altogether."

_Oohhhh Loooooooordie_.

I think I just fainted.

Cam was insane. He truly was. He was mental. Either he was telling the truth and mental, or he was lying and desperate.

I think Casey eventually peeked in, saw me in the fetal position on the ground, and carried me out. I think.

He shot Cam a sympathetic-yet-dirty look. I think.

Fuck. My. Life. I think.

**Back at home...**

"I CAN'T!" I'm screaming at everyone. "ARE YOU ALL CRAZY? HAVE YOU NO HEARTS?"

Casey is across the counter from me, leaning on it, and I can see his perfect muscular arms. The hair on his arms are lighter than his regular hair. Probably the sun. Casey calmly says, "Sammy. It's fine. Cam told me he wanted you there. He said it would be worse for him if you weren't. Don't you want to make this easier for him?"

My dad, "He's a killer, he is! You're right Samantha. Don't go."

Marissa, "Ohmygawd. I might faint. This is disgusting. I'm leaving." (she grabs her purse and bolts. Danny follows, snatching his car keys off the counter).

Casey blinks at me, twice. He looks so sorry for me. I can tell he really feels bad.

My dad is storming around the kitchen, making a fool of himself.

Billy is standing next to me, keeping me from falling down. Regularly this would be Casey's role, but today Casey can't help. Because as much as he's trying to feel bad for me, I know that he's secretly a _tiny _bit happy that Cam will finally be off my back forever.

I know Cam is a killer. I know he's manipulative and weird. But for some reason, I can't help but _not _hate him. It's like my whole world is crashing down around me- I used to be obsessed with him and now I'm obsessed about seeing him go. I don't want to. Ever. I want him to go back to Colorado, safe. I want him to change. I want something better for him. It's like no matter where I turn, he's still behind me, staring at me. Mona Lisa-ing me. He's there. His manipulative eyes are there. Watching me. I can't run from him. I try. I can run, I can run, but I can't hide. I'm like a devil. A reformed devil that's learned her lesson. And he's Satan, chasing after me, wanting to burn me to ashes. (Oh, and Casey's my god but I won't tell anyone that because it's too cheesy).

I grab Billy tightly and I'm sobbing. My dad looks baffled and confused. "Why is she _crying...?"_

I don't think Casey had the heart to tell my dad the truth about how I felt about all this Cam stuff, so he lied for me: "Uh...one of those girl-mood-swings..?" he says to my dad.

"Can I come back later when she's not so..._emotional?" _my dad whispers to Casey.

I guess Casey let him leave, because next thing I know, I'm being hugged from two sides. Casey from the back, Billy from the front I can't see them, but I can tell who is who by the way they hug me. Billy is friend-sympathetic hugging me and Casey is boyfriend-sympathetic hugging me. There's a difference, I swear.

Michael Jackson.

John Lennon.

Michael Jackson.

John Lennon.

Michael Jackson.

John Lennon.

I keep thinking of them! And why? I don't get it.

Is it because I love John Lennon and I cry whenever I hear the sad story of his death? And because I spent over 48 hours crying because of Michael Jackson's death, when he died?

Or is it because I can't stand to think about the death of people I love? John Lennon was amazing. His whole message was amazing. And Michael Jackson was also amazing. He is a legend. I love them. I can't bear to think of their death. It's painful. I feel so bad, all the time.

I tried to picture what I'd do if Casey would die. An _unreal _scenario would be me crying and crying and crying and eventually getting over it and moving on and marrying another guy or something. A _real _scenario would be me going crazy, ripping my hair out, and killing myself.

Okay. Okay. I need to calm down. Maybe I wouldn't _kill _myself, but I'd probably never date again, or ever marry at all.

I tried picturing what I'd do if Marissa died. I'd probably be in denial and go a little mental in my head. I have no idea.

I continue to sob into Billy's chest (I didn't reach up to his shoulder. No, he's not abnormally tall; I'm just a little short.)

Suddenly I feel myself being picked up by the waist and picked up and turned around. Casey is giving me a small smile. He's lifting me up, and I wonder how he does it? Is he really that strong? Probably. I avoid looking at his arms, I bet his muscles are bulging right now on them, by picking me up. I can't look, I know I'd probably stare like a freak.

Casey is looking at me with a peculiar expression. "Is something wrong?" I ask, fingering a lock of his tousled dark hair.

Casey cracks a little smile. "Yes. My girlfriend was crying. I don't want that."

I smile back a little, trying to forget about Cam. "You don't?"

He squeezes my waist. "You're crazy." he murmurs, "Of course I don't want to see you cry. Even though you just came back this summer, that doesn't mean I barely know you. I know you very well, Sammy Keyes."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And I know for a fact that you'll make it through all of this. I have complete confidence in you." he moves me in until I'm literally inches away from him. Casey's lips are so close to mine now that I could feel the barely-there touch.

Billy coughs. Loud.

Casey suddenly lets go of me, I completely blush, and suddenly I'm remembering Cam again.

Ooohh. I might be sick.

Casey glares at Billy. "I was trying to distract her, so she wouldn't cry again. What was that for?"

Billy rolled his eyes. "Distract her by what, showing off your biceps and then making out with her?"

Casey punches him. "We didn't even kiss. And shut up, before I pound your face in."

I sit down at the table and put my head down. Then I scream. Loud. Long.

My dad has rushed in by the time I'm done.

"SAMANTHA KEYES HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!"

I sighed.

After a few moments of calming down, Dad was gone again, leaving the Sammy-comforting to Billy and Casey.

I stood up and straightened out my clothes. Then I went and stood by Casey, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll get through with it. I will. I hope."

He was giving me this funny look- he looked half-pained, half-starstruck. His hand immiedetly swerved to hold me also, but I stood away. "Listen, Casey. I feel sick, and I kind of just want to be alone right now. If you don't mind. I...I...if I want to attend, I'm going to have to recompose myself."

Casey didn't seem fazed. He grabbed Billy's arm and said, "Dude. Let's leave her alone now, okay?" he gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then dragged Billy out.

Sometimes having a boyfriend like Casey is too easy. After they were gone I headed to my room upstairs and buried my face in my pillow. I hadn't seen the whole trial but it had happened and I knew the result. I was too scared to think of what would become of Cam. I mean, I know he was terrible to me and I know he tried to kill me, kind of.

But there's something about him that makes me want to give him a second chance.

Everyone needs a second chance at least once. Making a mistake once will not guarantee that you will make it again. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone makes the wrong choices.

Sometimes your life is put out on a spreadsheet in front of you, and your total budget is very small. You make the first choice you get to keep your costs in the budget. Some people take the hard way and make the right decisions and face the hard obstacles in life so they can achieve everything on their own. Other people look at their life, spread out so evenly on a blank canvas, and then they look at their small budget and think they can never get through it. They make the wrong choice; the choice to cheat people from their own budgets. The choice to do things that will hurt others but possibly benefit you.

Unless you get caught, of course.

Cam chose the second way. He chose to cheat people of their dignities and rights.

Like, the right to live.

But now his life is on the spreadsheet again, and he can clearly see where his decision landed him.

A dead end.

I feel like everyone needs another chance. You make one wrong decision but you learn from it. What other way to know something is wrong than to have experienced it yourself?

Cam may have been a cheater in life, but he doesn't deserve his sentence. He's now being cheated.

The jury is just as bad as him, choosing this as his sentence. They think he deserves this? Who are they to think who deserves the right to live?

My dad got a second chance. He made the wrong decisions. He screwed up big time. He faced the consequences. For example, one major consequence in his life was me. He never expected me to be here this day, he never knew his life would be like this. That's the consequence to the decision he made with my mother 16 years ago.

My mother got a second chance, from me, actually. I used to hate her and mistrust her for leaving me alone with Grams here and even for dating Casey's dad at a point. But I gave her a second chance later and she even ended up breaking up with Warren and telling me who my father is.

And last but not least, _I_ got a second chance. I know I've done things I shouldn't have. Everyone has. I feel the guilt everyday, and I don't know why but it hurts to even think about my choices. When I was in Colorado, what was I thinking? Who was I? Was I the same Sammy? Yes. I was just making the wrong choices. Was I so depressed from moving away that I didn't even know who I was anymore? Who I wanted to become? Everything I stood for?

I broke the trust of people I love and I fixed them back up, and I would never have been able to fix them if it weren't for the idea of second chances. For example, if Casey hadn't ever givem me a second chance, we'd never be together. But he gave me another chance.

Now when I make a decision I think of my moral values and why I'm doing it in the first place. I'm talking about big decisions, like what I'm going to be when I grow up.

And before that, what college do I go to?

Should I even _go _to college?

Should I marry?

When?

Really? What if I don't really love him?

What if I do?

Do I even _want _to marry?

What about kids? Do I want kids? How many kids? With who? Casey? Will I even still _be _with Casey in ten years? Do I love him enough to raise a _child _with him? And again, what about college?

Those are the decisions I'm talking about.

And I want Cam to have another chance to make decisions.

Maybe he'll make the right decisions?

And was he lying about loving me? Or was he telling the truth? Did he really love me so much that he wanted to kill me because he couldn't stand the thought of me being with Casey? I will probably never know.

Nope. I will never know if Cam was lying or telling the truth. Maybe he _was _telling the truth. I mean, what reason do you have to lie when you're in jail, right? When you know you won't be alive for very long, anyway. You'll be gone before you can even figure out if you've been fooling yourself about you this whole time.

You be gone before you know it...

"SAMMY! WAKE UP!" Dad bellowed in my ear.

I jumped up and screamed a high-pitched, girly scream that could break windows. Someone grabbed my shoulders and began to massage them. I could suddenly hear Casey's deep voice breathing in my ears, his warm breath close to my neck: "Shh. We woke you up to get you ready. It's time."

Oh, no. Nononono. It's _time. _I think I'm going to scream again. I can't believe I actually fell asleep last night. And now it's morning and time for...ugh.

Casey was whispering soothing things into my ears as he massaged my shoulders and Dad was digging through my tyrannical mess of a closet to find me something to wear. Casey and Dad spoke at the same time.

Casey, "You need something to drink? Water? Milk?" (ew, milk?)

Dad, "Sammy don't you own any skirts?"

Me: "Casey, no thank you. And Dad, NO WAY! And I can get dressed fine myself. Now leave."

Dad gave Casey a small little smile and Casey stopped rubbing my shoulders. "I have to go wait downstairs." he said nervously. "You're father doesn't trust me."

"Of course I don't." Dad commented, "You're a nice guy, but I wouldn't even trust you alone with my daughter even if you were...Martin Luther King Junior, or Gandhi, or someone."

As Casey headed out with my dad I heard him ask, "What if I was George Washington?"

My dad snaps, "No!"

"Barack Obama?"

"No!"

"The Pope?"

"No, Casey!"

"What about Jesus? What if I was Jesus Christ? Would you trust me then? And you _can't _say you wouldn't trust me. There's a _reason _they call her Virgin Mary!"

My dad thought about that a moment. I could still hear their voices down the hall as Dad laughed and said, "Still no! Sammy's definitely not a 'Mary'."

In my head I thought, _Or a virgin._

Okay. The voices were gone. It was time to get dressed. Hmm. What does one wear when they are attending the death of another?

I had nothing formal at all. I finally called Marissa up.

"What could you possibly need at six am?" she grumbled into the phone.

I said the sentence she'd been begging me to say ever since we met: "Marissa. Fashion emergency. I need you're help ASAP. What do I wear today to...you know what."

She was definitely up now. "I'll be over in ten." she said into the phone, a strange little happy perk to her voice.

Sure enough, Marissa was over in ten, with Danny who had given her the ride over here.

When she and I were both alone in my room she pulled out a makeup bag.

"Oh holy crap, no. No, no. No makeup." I backed up. "I swore off any type of makeup, remember? My reformation plan?"

Marissa shook her head. "You look just as dead as he _will_ be. We need to make you look livelier. Your baggy eyes. Your pasty face. You look pretty, but like a zombie."

I rolled my green eyes. "Whatever you say, goddess Marissa."

She smirked. "Don't doubt me, weakling. I can kick your little toned butt any day in the fashion department."

"And I can kick your couture-jeans-clad butt any day in general." I replied.

She laughed. "Okay. Okay. Take off your clothes."

I looked down at my My Chemical Romance concert tee and black Adidas pants. "Why? Aren't you only doing makeup on my face?"

She rolled her eyes. "Your face is ghostly pale. I need to match the skin tone to the rest of you."

I shrugged. "Okay, whatever you say." I stepped out of my pants and yanked off my shirt.

As she studied my bare arms and shoulders carefully and compared it to my face, I shivered. "It's cold." I complained, getting goose bumps all over. I was freezing standing in my underwear and bra. "Let me get cloooothed." I shivered.

"Hold on!" she snapped. I looked down at my bare legs. God it was so cold in the morning, especially on the top floor. Goosebumps!

She pulled out something from her tote bag. "Wear this." she handed me a folded outfit.

I unfolded it to find a black skirt that ended right above the knees, and a carefully ironed button down floral print formal blouse. To top it all off, there was a navy blazer to wear on top of it.

Well. At least it want some pink power suit, like I imagined her to bring.

I reluctantly pulled on the outfit and then Marissa pulled out two pairs of shoes from her bag. "You pick. Black pumps or gray flats?"

I reached for the flats quicker than a toddler grabs a Tickle-Me-Elmo.

Marissa began spreading creamy foundation all over my skin and especially under my eyes to remove the baggy raccoonness. She pinned back my choppy bangs with dark brown bobby pins that matched my hair color. She _didn't _put any eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara, lipstick on me, and I appreciated that.

Finally she allowed me to look in the mirror.

And wow. I looked...nice. Not overdone at all. Just perfect, like I cared a lot but didn't dress up like I was going to an interview. I couldn't wait for Casey to see me. Finally! My gorgeous boyfriend would get to see me look all _un_-zombie-like!

And when I did go downstairs and Casey saw me, you bet he was pleased. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me deeply until Dad started "hacking" very loud.

Casey and I pulled apart. I wondered why everyone was so against us kissing.

Marissa and Danny bid their farewells and then it was just me, Casey, and Dad. Casey grinned a small, grim smile and said, "I should get home to get ready now. See you there." he suddenly seemed very stony.

And so did I.

Oh my God. Today was such a terrible day. Imagine how Cam feels.

Not so great. I can guarantee that.

Not so great.

Finally Dad put me in the car and drove me. And drove me. And drove me.

I finally asked quietly, "What are they using?"

Dad was suddenly a little silent. "I tried requesting the poison but no one cared about my opinion. They're doing the chair."

Oh, God.

The electric chair.

I wanted to break down in a fit. I wanted to run and grab Cam and tell him even though I didn't love him like that, I still cared.

I still cared.

I don't care who he is or why. No one deserves the death sentence.

We both arrived and Casey was there, in a suit, looking remarkably handsome.

Handsome. Did I just say that? There must be something wrong with my brain. I am about the watch the death of Cam and I'm noticing Casey's _handsome-_ness?

Anyway, Casey greeted me with a series of short but very passionate kisses. He stopped and told me how beautiful he thought I looked at the moment. Usually I would like that. Today nothing was comforting. Not even Casey's kisses. Okay, maybe his secure, comforting arm around me was...but other than that, not even meeting Gerard Way would make me feel any better.

After all of the important short statements were over, Cam was suddenly brought out to the front of the room.

His full name, Cameron Something Stalin.

Hair color, black.

Eye color, blue.

Age, 17.

Birth date, July 9th, 1993.

Death date... August 18th, 2010.

And then our eyes locked.

He looked at me with those manipulatively piercing blue eyes. He didn't seem to be saying any words to me with his eyes. Usually he'd be ordering or pleading or warning me with his creepy blue eyes. Today, he was silent. He knew his fate and I knew his fate. I looked at him with my green eyes. I wanted to do something. Anything. But for once in my lifetime of miraculous ideas, I had no clue what to do.

And then he was put on the chair, hands locked in place on the side. His eyes lowered down to stare at his lap. His balled up fists just suddenly relaxed.

And for once in _his _life of cruelty and harshness, Cam looked afraid.

.

Nooooooo. Noooooo.

I couldn't let this happen.

He couldn't die.

No. Please. No.

Casey suddenly grabbed me and hugged me against his chest. I didn't realize the tears dripping down my face, ruining Casey's suit. Casey didn't care about his suit, though. He cared about me. Well right now? I cared about Cam's life.

Cam's yell of pain was echoing across the room. I screamed so loud into Casey's chest, I probably burst one of his lungs with my voice so loud. Casey's grip tightened on me and as I struggled to pull my face away from being buried against his chest, I could feel Casey holding me there, not letting me go. In any other circumstance this would have been weird. What kind of boyfriend would force his girlfriend to not let her face move away from against him so she could possibly suffocate?

But today was different. Casey was trying to keep me from breaking free from his chest and looking at Cam. He wanted me to not see Dead Cam. I wanted to see Dead Cam, one last time I wanted to see Cam. Casey kept my head in place. I was no match for him. Have you ever seen his arms? If you haven't, you should know they're pretty damn muscular.

Even though I wanted to see Cam's body, I knew that if I _did, _I would probably start screaming and having a fit and have a nervous break down right there on the spot. Even I- the girl who had been trapped in a gang banger's basement when I was thirteen- cannot handle seeing the dead body of a boy I once knew. Casey knew me too well. I clutched onto his arms, actually, his _sleeves-_ I was probably wrinkling his suit. He didn't seem to care.

After a couple minutes of just standing there, breathing in the smell of Casey's cologne, I felt a big hand on my shoulder.

My dad coughed a little behind me. Casey gently let me go. I couldn't see my dad behind me, but I knew he was glaring at Casey for him to let me go. Casey completely ignored this (aww) and gently wiped my half-dried face of tears with his hands. Then he softly kissed me for a quick moment. After that he sort of stepped away, as if he was giving me back to my dad or something. I looked at the electric chair Cam had been in. No one. They had taken him away. But all of a sudden for the first time ever since I met him, my dad smiled at Casey and actually said, "Mr. Acosta, would you be kind enough to escort my daughter home?" (on normal circumstances my dad preferred driving me over Casey driving, whenever he could. It's a Dad thing).

Casey looked a little surprised but didn't let it faze him. "My pleasure." he said to Dad. Casey stepped back toward me.

I looked up at Casey, who wasn't crying like I had been but looked disturbed enough. Obviously. Boys never cried in front of people. Especially their girlfriends. Okay, this was a stereotype but still. Boys tried to stay strong and comfort the girl, not cry along _with _her. That would destroy the purpose of his role as a boyfriend.

"He needed a second chance." I whispered to only Casey.

Casey nodded slowly, looking down at me so carefully with his adorable wide brown eyes. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I could suddenly feel a weird warm glow inside me. I'm glad I'm back. I'm not glad Cam's dead, but. I'm glad I'm back. I have Casey here.

I buried my face into Casey's chest again. And now I could feel my dad's hand on my shoulder, slowly patting me to comfort me.

"He needed another chance." I muffled again, this time into Casey's shirt.

Cam was gone forever, and I knew it. We all knew it.

He would never get his second chance.

I would never know if he had been lying to me or not.

But Casey was here, and he loved me.

And my dad was trying to be a good dad, no matter how bad he was with dealing with feelings.

And I somehow predicted a better future for me. Because this was _my _second chance. I wouldn't put it to waste. Not all people are lucky enough to even get a second chance.

I've finally escaped from Cam's race of the devils. I'm out, and I'm free. I've escaped.

I know I will survive. It sounds cheesy and I know it is, but I know that there is always going to be something better for everyone at the end of the road. You just have to choose the right way to live your life on that blank canvas.

Cam may have chosen the wrong way, and maybe he was brutally punished for it, but what can we do about that except for to fix our own mistakes? To realize from what has been done?

If Cam had been lying to me, so be it. If he _hadn't _been lying, so be it. I'd never know the real truth. I don't think I ever wanted to. I'd live my life different now. With Casey. With my dad. Maybe one day I would know how it feels so be up close and personal with Casey and not some guy I don't even know's name. Maybe one day I'll be able to have a better relationship with my dad. Maybe one day I'll be able to get into a college of my choice. Maybe one day I'll be married and have a child. Maybe one day I'll have a job and live in an apartment or house that I pay for myself. Or with a husband? Who knows?

No one. Not yet.

I shouldn't even think about my future when I've just escaped the past. Everybody has some sort of devil inside them, just waiting for the right moment to spring out. Some people contain their devil inside themselves forever, and some people accidentally let it loose depending on the choices they make. I've finally run past my devil, escaping it's wrath. And that devil can run. It can run to me as much as it wants to. It can chase me forever. But now that I'm past it, I won't ever look back. I've made my mistakes but I'm getting another chance, a chance without the devil.

I know I shouldn't be thinking about my future at all, but as I looked up at Casey and into his beautiful brown eyes, I saw a better future for me and Casey, for my dad, for everyone. Second chances are here for revising all the mistakes you've made, for fixing the little errors.  
Cats have nine lives.

Humans have second chances.

This was my second chance.

Ready...set...go.

A_nd that concludes the finale of the story "Run Devil Run"_

**A/N: **How was it? This is my favorite chapter out of them all. I really, really hoped you liked it. I put a lot of effort into this one. The detail, descriptions, I tried to make everything a little _sharper _than my regular writing. I tried to make some of it actually appeal to the readers (you guys) so you guys can apply it to personal experiences and get a good feel of the story. I'm sounding like an English teacher now, sorry, I just really love writing. Please comment on this chapter I'm begging you. I spent forever writing it! (: (ps: Yes, I took the Epilogue out of this story. I had originally written one but it made the story end choppily so I'll leave it at this)


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